A Discrepancy of Death
by Castaway Jane
Summary: A chance encounter with one of his father’s patients sends Steve into a worrying spiral of emotion. Can he unlock the stranger’s secret alone or will he be forced to seek help from elsewhere?
1. Introduction - Chapter 1

Introduction

From "The Last Laugh"

mark

Remember when you were fifteen and you desperately wanted to go to military school?

steve

Dad...

mark

I tried to talk you out of it, but you wouldn't listen. You wouldn't even talk to me until I signed the application.

steve

And I was miserable there. I didn't last two weeks. You were right, I was wrong, and I really have to get back to work.

mark

Do you remember when you came back home? Did I ever say "I told you so"?

steve

You welcomed me with open arms. (Unfortunately, I don't have time to reciprocate right now).

mark

The point is, (and) I want you to keep the military school story in mind (when I tell you this) because fathers and sons should be free to make mistakes

****

Introduction

THURSDAY,22:47.

Amanda gathered up the mugs which lay hidden beneath mountains of paper on the table 

"Well I'm sorry Mark but I really must be going" She said as she laid the mugs down in the kitchen. "I told the babysitter I wouldn't be late and at this rate she'll think I skipped the country!" 

"Don't apologise" Mark replied as he waved her towards the door, "_you_ have a little boy at home needs to be tucked in, _I _have a bed upstairs calling my name and _he_….." They both turned to see Jesse snoozing in front of the T.V., a handful of files scattered around him. "He _does_ have a home to go to, allegedly, though I may start charging him rent given the amount of time he spends here!"

Mark stood with his hand on the door as Amanda rummaged through her coat pockets for her car keys. "OK, got them, goodnight Mark" she said as she leant forward to give the old man a kiss on the cheek "I'll see you at…" Her words were broken off by the sound of a of a muffled scream and a loud bang. Mark moved instinctively to place a protective arm around Amanda's shoulder. Jesse stirred on the sofa but made no great motion as Mark edged slowly towards the door which lead down to Steve's apartment. "Mark?" Amanda's voice was brimming with fear and concern; concern for Mark and concern for Steve who had been fast asleep downstairs for the last two hours. Mark leant towards the door, he could hear a constant noise now, muffled voices? Grunts definitely, and then another long deep scream. Mark opened the door as Jesse stirred again, this time Amanda was by his side shaking him by the arm. She placed a finger against her lips to silence her young colleague just as he opened his mouth to speak. 

Jesse and Amanda reached the top of the stairs in time to see Mark reaching the bottom. They could here Steve clearly now, but his words were still muffled. The tone of his voice was enough to tell them that he was pleading with someone "Mark" Amanda whispered as loud as she could to attract his attention. Jesse pushed past her and ran towards the foot of the stairs. Before he could reach the bottom he heard Mark

"Oh Steve" he said in a low and mournful voice. "Oh Steve, it's OK son".

Jesse's first instincts were to try and restrain his friend as he lay writhing face down on the bed. Steve was soaked in sweat with blankets knotted tight around his lower legs. He continued to shout incoherently, face buried deep into his pillow. Mark held out his arm to stop Jesse from approaching Steve's bed "It's OK Jess" he said as he picked up the lamp which lay on the floor and placed it back on the bedside table "I'll handle this" 

"But Mark he's.." 

"I said I'll handle it" snapped Mark. 

Amanda was now standing in the doorway to Steve's apartment, she reached out and touched Jesse on the shoulder "let's go" she whispered 

"But Amanda look at him.." 

"Mark has this under control". She sounded as though she was trying to convince herself of that fact. Jesse backed towards the stairs, never taking his eyes off Steve as he tossed around, arms lashing out and legs struggling to free themselves. Mark too kept his focus on Steve, leaning over his son's bed. He reached out to place a hand on Steve's head, his face now turned towards his father. His brow was furrowed, cheeks flushed and rivulets of sweat ran from his forehead down his neck and his body glistened wet. 

"Steve" Mark spoke softly, leaning further over him "Steve, it's OK, open your eyes" His hand ran gently down onto Steve's shoulder "come on son". 

As Amanda and Jesse pulled the door of Steve's apartment closed Steve let out a powerful cry, then sobs again began to emanate from downstairs. Marks reassuring tone could be heard as the pair exited the house.

****

Chapter 1

FRIDAY,07:38

Mark rubbed his bleary eyes as he poured coffee into his mug and sighed as he turned to see the table, still looking as if a whirlwind had hit it. He had just started to shuffle the papers into towers when the door to Steve's apartment opened. Mark turned momentarily but didn't speak, he carried on with the paperwork. 

"Hey" came a weak voice from behind him 

"Hey" was all Mark could manage in return. He paused a moment "coffee's fresh". He cringed, he could do better than that "how you feeling this morning" he still didn't turn to face Steve 

"I'm ……OK" came the strained answer "bit of a headache" 

"I'll get you something for that" Mark made his way past Steve. It was as if the word 'headache' had struck a match in the dark, something Mark knew he could help with, this was within his range. 

"Dad" the stern tone tore through Mark "I don't want anything, I'll be fine". Mark knew not to argue. He turned back towards the table, still he made no attempt to make eye contact with Steve. That suited Steve just fine as he focused on the coffee-pot in front of him. The last thing he wanted now was to see that look in his fathers' eyes. He knew _that_ look, and it was always followed by _those_ words 'I think you should talk about it'. 

Steve picked up his mug and headed back towards the stairs. He paused "Dad" Mark looked up slowly, Steve had his back turned to him "I'll see you later" Steve continued as he slowly made his way down the stairs.

FRIDAY,08:52

"Do you think Mark'll be OK?" Jesse asked as he and Amanda sat together in the doctor's lounge "I mean Steve was pretty wild last night". Amanda shot him a glare "What I'm saying is, you know, he wasn't himself was he?" He paused, then blurted "Well he kinda freaked me out OK". Amanda continued to stare harshly at her young friend, but remained silent.

"OK, OK" protested Jesse holding up his hands "It's just I've never seen Steve, well anyone, like _that_ before. Well except for when I did my psych rotation" he dropped his head into his hands as he realised what he'd said "Not that I think Steve's…" 

"I know" Amanda finally chipped in, seeing that Jesse was genuinely upset by the whole incident. "I just think we are best leaving alone, at least until one of them asks us to get involved". At that moment the door opened and Mark Sloan walked in, looking pale and not his usual happy self. "Morning" chirped Amanda. Mark closed the door and stood with his back against it 

"Amanda, Jesse, about last night" 

"It's OK Mark", Amanda rose and made her way towards him 

"Yeah Mark" started Jesse, realising he had nothing more to add to Amanda's statement "er, yeah, it's OK". 

"Well thanks" said Mark, "but I feel bad about pushing you out last night, and I'm sorry that I snapped like I did. I know you were just concerned and probably a little shocked but believe me, it was just better that you left. I knew Steve would wake up and, well you know he wouldn't want an audience, not when he got with it and realised what had been happening". Marks voice was shaky but it seemed he wanted to clear things up "it's just difficult you know, you wake up from a dream like that and it's better if your surroundings are, simple I guess, uncluttered. Not that I consider you guys as clutter, ah you know what I mean" He made his way to the sofa and slumped back 

"I know what you mean" Jesse nodded "not that I've ever had a dream like _that_ before, thank god". An uncomfortable silence followed. Eventually Amanda spoke up 

"Mark" she said placing a hand on his shoulder "As long as you know that we're here for you" she smiled sweetly and made her way to the door "If you'll excuse me I'd better finish that autopsy and I'll see you guys later", 

"Yeah, I'd better get back to it too" sighed Jesse "See ya later". 

Mark sat alone in the empty lounge, lost in his thoughts. 

FRIDAY,12:27

The report file on Steve's desk lay open, a photo of a crime scene clipped to the corner of one of the pages. He'd been looking at it blankly for a good 10 minutes now. Picking up a pen he tried to shake himself back to reality, leafing through the pages. His head didn't pound as it had done this morning but it was almost lunchtime now and he still felt rough. He couldn't understand what could have triggered such a dream, it had been a long time since the last one but he was sure he'd never felt this bad afterwards. He picked up his mug and winced as he gulped the cold coffee. Looking at his watch he closed the file and threw his pen down on top of it. His mind wasn't on work and he knew it. He'd be better off somewhere else. He wasn't sure where but he knew the station wasn't the right place. All he needed was for one more person to comment on his tired appearance or apparent disinterest in the case file and he'd snap. He reached his car in the car lot but decided to walk for a while instead.

FRIDAY,14:07

Steve hadn't intended to go home, that's just where he ended up. He'd headed for the beach hoping the sea air would clear his head. It had helped his headache a little but his mind was still whirring. He could remember the dream he'd had. Unfortunately he remembered it vividly. He closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. He hated this feeling, not quite nauseous, not really anxious, just something he couldn't stop from bubbling up inside him. He also hated the fact that he had no idea what had happened around him whist he'd been dreaming. He'd woken up at about 1:30 and found his dad by his side. According to him he'd been "unsettled" as he put it, for a few hours on and off. He'd drifted back to sleep after that but woke around four o'clock, totally confused and disorientated. The next thing he remembered was being slumped over the toilet, vomiting. His father was by his side talking to him, holding his head up "It's OK, you're home now", that's all he'd said, over and over again. He had no idea what time he gone back to bed, or any recollection of getting there, but that's where he'd woken up again this morning. He'd heard his dad upstairs and contemplated hiding in his apartment 'til he left for work. But something had made him go up there. If he was honest with himself he knew what it was. He wanted his dad to tell him about the night before, he wanted to talk to him about it. 

Steve swallowed hard as he entered his apartment. As he stripped his bed he tried to remember more about the previous night. He shook his head, he knew he couldn't force things back into his mind. It would click eventually, he hoped. He found the gaps in his memory annoying more than anything. "Let's talk about it" he muttered to himself. Surveying the wreckage of his room he told himself that "talking" never did as much good as people claimed. Some things will never change, he thought. Tossing the dirty linen into the laundry basket in his closet he clenched his fist and smacked the door shut. 

FRIDAY,14:18

Jesse grabbed Mark by the shoulder as they passed in the corridor "How y'doing?" he asked, as the old man turned to face him, glassed perched on the end of his nose. 

"Oh, I'm OK Jess, a little worried if I'm honest about it" Jesse nodded "Called Steve at the station but he left well before lunch, and I called home but he's not there" 

"Mobile?" Jesse enquired 

"Switched off" Mark grimaced "Ah, I guess he's just off somewhere blowing away the cobwebs after last night" 

"Probably", Jesse tried his best to make it sound convincing. "I've got a couple of rounds to do but I'd appreciate some advice on some patients if you've got the time?" 

"Always" Mark replied. "How about a late lunch in the lounge?"

"Perfect" Jesse replied "See you as soon as I'm finished".

Smiling, the pair parted company. 

FRIDAY,14:31

The last thing Steve wanted to see as he stepped out of the elevator was, of course, the first thing he saw. Amanda was at the admin desk and looked straight at him as the doors opened. She gave him _that_ smile. It wasn't patronising, just kind of pitying and pathetic. Or sympathetic, maybe that's what it was "poor Steve" that's what she was thinking. If she gave him a hug now he thought he'd scream. What was she, his mother or something? Well, she was _a_ mother, and they're all the same at heart right? He cursed himself realising he'd wasted precious moments deciphering her smile instead of preparing himself for the inevitable 

"Hey Steve" 

No hug he thought, but a hand gently stoking his arm "how are you doing?" 

God, he hated those words 

"Fine", he managed a smile though he doubted it fooled Amanda, she'd known him too long. "Dad around?" 

"I haven't seen him, but I can page him for you, I know he'd be pleased you're here". 

Steve's head dropped as Jesse rounded the corner, "great", he thought, another concerned friend no doubt willing to "talk about it", just what he needed. Jesse dropped his files on the desk 

"how y'doing?" he asked. 

Can't anybody be a bit more original, Steve thought? Or mind their own business, now there was a novel concept. "I'm fine Jess, I just thought I'd call by and see dad, d'ya know where he is".

"In the lounge, probably cursing me" Jesse replied, checking his watch

Steve rolled his eyes at the looks of intrigue on his friends faces and made his way silently down the corridor.

FRIDAY,14:36

Steve took a deep breath before entering the doctor's lounge. His father sat at the table, a few files open around him and a sandwich in his hand.

Mark tried not to look surprised to see him. "Want one?" he asked Steve, gesturing to the other sandwich in the plastic container, Steve just shook his head.

"Busy morning?" Steve enquired pulling out a chair, Mark raised his eyebrows. Brushing the crumbs from his mouth and gulping some orange juice from a carton he began waving a finger towards the door. When he'd swallowed the juice he began to speak 

"I'm waiting for Jesse, something he want's advice on"

"I can go if you're…."

"No, no, not at all" Mark interrupted, and Steve sat down.

There was a nervous silence for a few seconds, then looking at each other both spoke at once

"I…" they stopped, and smiled at each other.

"You go first" Mark chuckled.

Steve clasped his hands together and drew a long breath. "OK" he began "It's about last night." He paused "There's something I wanted to …" Steve stopped and turned abruptly as Jesse flung open the door

"Hey, sorry I took so long Mark" Mark looked disappointed as Jesse began rambling about charts never ending up in the right place. He wished he could tell him to leave them alone, but he wouldn't embarrass Jesse or Steve like that. Instead he noticed Steve starting to get up.

"I'll see you later" he mouthed to his dad, making his way to the door.

"No, hang around" Mark insisted "This won't take long will it Jess?"

Jesse had little option but to shake his head weakly and smile.

FRIDAY,14:50

Steve flicked randomly through a pile of magazines on the lounge room sofa as the two doctors discussed patients.

Mark was obviously more concerned about talking to his son, and as a result Jesse stumbled quickly over his words and flapped through pages in the patient files.

Jesse blew the hair from his forehead "And Finally" he said in triumphant tones "Mr J.J. Douglas"

Steve looked up momentarily from his magazine, but soon turned his focus back to the article on some nasty looking parasite.

"Any improvement?" Mark asked? "Not really, can't seem to shift that urine infection"

Steve screwed his face up.

"Well, it's a problem when a patient has relied on a catheter for so long" Mark replied. "Try a different antibiotic or remove the catheter until the infection clears".

"He won't like that" Jesse replied "Told me in no uncertain terms that just because he's in a wheelchair doesn't mean he has no dignity 'I ain't messin maself fur nowun' were his exact words" Jesse mimicked, much to Marks disapproval. "Well, I'll go and talk to him now, make sure he isn't giving the nurses too hard a time" he finished, collecting together his files from the table "Thanks Mark, see you later Steve".

Steve nodded and Mark joined him on the sofa "Sorry it took so long"

"That's OK, I shouldn't have bothered you at work". Marked noticed that Steve seemed rather distant now.

"Are you OK?" He asked gently

"Yeah" Steve replied hesitantly as he got to his feet "but I just remembered something I've got to do, I'll see you at home". With that he made his way along the corridor, leaving Mark to sit alone again, deep in thought. 

FRIDAY,21:06

Mark hurried through the front door and into the lounge "I'm home" he shouted but there was no reply. He looked at his watch and tutted. He hadn't planned on being this late, and he was sure Steve would have been home by now. "Steve" he called again but there was still no answer.

He made his way down to Steve's apartment thinking maybe he'd decided on an early night but there were no signs of him there either. Just as he was about to leave he noticed a small wooden box lying open on Steve's bedside cabinet. He looked around, a guilty expression already on his face. He would usually never pry into his son's personal belongings but under the circumstances…Ah, who was he kidding, he just had a real urge to be nosy so he sat on the clean crisp bed and plonked the box down on his lap.

One by one he started examining the items as he took them from the box. Mostly they were photos, newspaper cuttings, a few letters and postcards, a badge pinned to a scrap of cloth; Mark held a faded photo of Steve, dressed in his army greens, standing outside an army camp somewhere in Vietnam. Steve looked so young, fresh tanned face, smiling broadly at the camera. He looked sternly at the photo for a while, as if that image itself would tell him what was troubling his son. Eventually he placed it back in the box with the other items and returned upstairs.

FRIDAY,22:47

Steve gently closed the door of the beach house behind him and crept towards the kitchen.

"You been working"? Mark asked flicking on the table lamp beside him.

"Jesus dad" Steve gasped "You almost gave me a heart attack, I thought you'd be in bed" he braced his arm against the fire place

"Sorry, just sitting here reading" 

"In the dark?"

"Ah…" Mark thought for a moment "OK how about I was waiting up for you, wanting to ask where you ran off to today after we talked in the lounge".

Steve couldn't help but smile at his honesty.

"I decided to do a little research" he admitted, but didn't expand.

"And?" Mark pushed

"And now I'm ready for bed" Steve answered, holding his ground. With that he made his way downstairs leaving Mark very disappointed and highly intrigued.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 ****

Chapter 2

SATURDAY,03:26

Mark woke with a jolt, screams emanating from his sons apartment downstairs. He wrapped his dressing gown around himself and noting the time made his way down to Steve's bedroom.

The scene was much the same as the night before, Steve lay feverishly thrashing on his bed, mumbling to himself then calling out wildly. Mark perched himself at his side and began to speak softly. Tonight it seemed Steve could hear him, he settled a little before curling up into a tight ball. Mark placed his hand on Steve's forehead as he fidgeted slightly. He began with his mantra of soothing words "It's OK son, you're home now, it's OK". 

SATURDAY,06:47

Mark wasn't surprised to hear the door close as Steve sneaked out early to avoid him. He'd had another rough night and Mark had only returned upstairs to his own bed about a half hour ago.

Steve arrived at CGH and made his way up to the 4th floor. Amanda wasn't usually on duty this early and as far as he knew Jesse and his dad didn't start 'til 10 today. This maybe wasn't a traditional visiting hour in the hospital, but he could avoid those awkward questions this was he thought.

Approaching room 441 Steve stopped a moment to make sure nobody was watching. He pushed the door open a little and in the darkened room could make out the shape of a body, peacefully asleep in the bed. A wheelchair was folded beside the door and a prosthetic limb was propped up in the corner. The sight of both made Steve shiver slightly. He quietly lifted the file from the foot of the bed and began leafing through the pages. A noise in the corridor startled him, the patient stirred but to Steve's obvious relief didn't wake. Replacing the file Steve smiled a little and left the room. 

SATURDAY,15:53

It was clear to Mark by the sudden silence that he had interrupted Jesse and Amanda discussing Steve when he entered the path lab. The young doctors had rather guilty looks on their faces but did their best to think of some trivial medical matter to talk about. Mark, of course, did not voice his suspicions, but waited for them to finish their conversation so that he had a chance to speak.

"Good afternoon" he started in mock seriousness, "I have a matter of relative importance I wish to discuss with you, my esteemed colleagues, if you would be so kind as to spare me the time". Amanda and Jesse laughed, and settled themselves down, eager to hear what he had to say.

"You can guess what it's about. Steve" he started. "I don't suppose he's been in touch?"

"Not since you asked about an hour ago" Jesse replied, and Amanda shot his a stern look. "Sorry" he added.

"He's got me more than a little confused, came to see me here yesterday, said he wanted to talk then he disappeared, didn't get home 'til late. When he did come home he decided to go all cryptic on me, muttering something about research then he was out at the crack of dawn this morning, no word since."

"Could it be unrelated?" Amanda asked "Some case he's working on?"

"According to the station, Steve has requested a few days leave".

The three looked at each other in amazement.

"Steve doesn't take leave" Jesse pointed out "he'd go to work with every bone in his body broken if we didn't stop him".

Mark threw his hands in the air "I know, that's why I hoped he'd been in touch with one of you guys. I'm just getting this horrible feeling that he might..ah..no."

"What Mark?" Amanda asked.

"Steve used to have this idea that problems are like a personal challenge, you know, a test of your character. He used to think he had to do everything alone, that if he had me, or his friends help him out, then it didn't count, he'd failed. I'm just frightened he's going to shoot off somewhere to clear his head and come back in a worse mess".

"Didn't he ever hear about 'a problem shared is a problem halved'" Jesse joked.

Amanda shot him another glare "I think what Jesse means is, Steve knows he can talk to us, or you Mark, about anything". Her tone was so sure, yet Mark looked anything but convinced as he dropped his head. Amanda had a bad feeling about this now, she was sure there was something Mark was holding back but she was unsure whether to ask or not.

Jesse of course had no such qualms.

"Is there something I'm missing here Mark?".

Mark looked up at Jesse, cleared his throat then began talking slowly. "I shouldn't blame his attitude on him, I made him that way. When Steve came back from Vietnam" He paused as he always did when mentioning his son and that awful place in the same breath. "Well, it was easiest for his mother and I to try and get things back to normal as soon as possible. I know that sounds ridiculous, cowardly almost, but it was the only way we could think of to get through it. Of course we acknowledged his physical wounds, his leg you know, and we supported him through that but the nightmares…" Mark trailed off slightly 

"..it was like Steve wanted to brush it under the carpet as much as we did, guess he hasn't changed much" Mark managed a faint smile at the thought of his sons attitude. "Only trouble being you can't just forget about things like that. So Steve would try his best to put a brave face on things for his mother, nodding and smiling in all the right places but I saw what he was really going through. It was like he was holding back so much, it was eating away at him". Mark sighed "Ah, what am I trying to get at?" He asked himself out loud "Steve had been back home a few weeks when he had his first nightmare, I mean the first time we heard him cry out. It wasn't as bad as the other night but he was pretty distressed all the same. I told Katherine not to worry, it was only natural" 

"Which it is" Jesse interrupted. 

Mark nodded "Oh yes, perfectly natural. Except the next morning nobody made an attempt to talk about it. I guess Steve thought we didn't hear him. But the nightmares became more and more frequent and worse each time by the sounds of them. His mother fussed over him every morning which just seemed to agitate him, and if we woke him during the night he was too confused to know what was going on. I hoped they'd stop, but they didn't, so one day I sat him down for a talk. Well, I got it all wrong." Mark threw his arms in the air 

"I don't believe that" Jesse said, still thinking in envy of the relationship Steve had with Mark. 

"Things were different then" Mark said shaking his head " I got it all wrong, talked to him about getting professional help which he took to mean I thought he was crazy. The truth was, I really didn't think he would open up to me, and he wouldn't have told his mother about the atrocities he'd seen, he wanted to protect her from the truth more than anything". 

Amanda smiled slightly at the thought of a son protecting a mother from the horrors of the world. Thinking of CJ so small and defenceless it seemed almost absurd. 

"So" Mark continued "I figured we'd just about hit stalemate, he was trying his best to pacify his mother, and Katherine was happy to go along with the notion that Steve was happily planning his new life. On the other hand he was blanking me totally except for the occasional outburst about how I thought he was a failure, or that he was mad". Jesse was looking more confused by each word Mark spoke. In his eyes theirs was the perfect father-son partnership. Mark lent back a moment and the trio sat silently. Mark tossed ideas around in his head, not quite knowing what to say next.

"OK" He said finally "I'm telling you all of this in the strictest of confidence. If Steve knew what I was saying I don't know what he'd do". Jesse and Amanda shot worried glances at each other. "I came home from work one afternoon" Mark continued, eyes half shut as if replaying the scene in his mind. "Steve was home alone but I could hear him talking to someone. It was like he was having a conversation with the invisible man, he'd say his part, pause and then reply. I watched him for a little while, he was sat at the kitchen table. He must have talked for a good 15 minutes like that. I picked up that he was talking to a fellow soldier at first, I don't know if he was reliving a real scenario or not but he was telling this guy all about his family. He spoke about Katherine with such love, and Carol too. You know he said little sisters could be a pain and get you into trouble but that she was OK really. Then he started talking about me being a doctor, how he was a disappointment to me and hearing that nearly broke my heart. I was just about to interrupt him when his mood changed totally. All I can guess is that in his mind there was now an enemy soldier present, he started screaming and shouting and I had no idea what to do. And then he started to sob, like he did the other night. I'd never heard my son cry like that. And he was a grown man. It scares me to death to think what he must have seen to make him cry like that." 

Mark fell silent as he pondered his last statement. 

"What happened Mark" Amanda asked gently. 

Mark shook his head "I just left him to it" he croaked, the self-disgust apparent in his voice. "I walked back out, he never even knew I was there".

"So did you find out who he'd been talking to at the kitchen table?" Jesse inquired. 

"The only real facts I have ever gained from Steve about that period of his life he's revealed in bits and pieces as time's gone on. Because I was too afraid to make him open up, I took the easy way out. And now I'm feeling,…guilty I suppose because, not surprisingly, Steve thinks he has to go through this alone. I wish he'd open up to me now. We're so much closer, I just don't how to get him talking without frightening him off." 

SATURDAY,19:22

Steve sat alone in the beach house, the TV continued to talk to itself as he folded his arms behind his head and lay back. He expected his father home soon, there was so much he wanted to say to him, he just had to take that first step. He closed his eyes momentarily as slow flashing images started to invade his brain.

Mark pulled up in his car, noticing that there was a light on and the flickering of the TV, he smiled to himself. At least Steve was here, all he had to do now was find a way to instigate the conversation he thought.

"Good evening" he chirped as he opened the door and made his way towards the sofa. Steve sat up to make room for him but Mark perched himself on the coffee table directly in front of him instead. He sat smiling, hands resting on his knees as Steve moved uncomfortably in his seat. To the casual observer, Mark and Steve could be mistaken for scolding parent and tear away teenager. "How you feeling today?" Mark asked, and to his relief Steve didn't hesitate in his answer or make a move to leave.

"I'm pretty average" He replied smiling, "I mean I'm in need of a good nights sleep as I'm sure you appreciate" Mark nodded "but I'm relieved that I got to the bottom of what's been…." he paused for the first time "I mean I know now what's caused the dreams"

Mark couldn't hide his surprise at Steve's direct answer "That's great" he beamed "I mean that's good" he re-stated in more solemn tones. "So is it anything you want to discuss? I mean only if you want to of course, no hurry".

"It's OK dad, I know you've probably been walking on eggshells the last couple of days, I know you're just concerned".

That's an understatement, Mark thought. Just then Steve reached out, placing his hand on Marks arm. "Dad, I am going to take you up on that offer of a chat, and I'm not putting it off" he smirked "But I figure you probably want to shower so how about I fix something to eat and we discuss it over supper?"

"How about I shower and you call for take away?" Mark suggested

Steve nodded "Deal".

SATURDAY,20:35

Mark finished scraping leftovers into the bin as Steve hovered behind him. When Mark turned to face him it was obvious he was bursting to talk, so gestured that they should sit back at the table.

"It's a patient of yours" Steve began without any prompting "I was unsure why I had that dream on Thursday, it seemed so out of the blue. Then it hit me, when I came to see you at the hospital, you were discussing a patient, JJ Douglas."

Mark was confused but let Steve continue, after all he seemed very sure about this theory.

"You were discussing him when I got in from work on Thursday, but I just went and crashed out. I caught the name but it didn't register, not until I was asleep and then whatever it is, your subconscious, that took over. Then I heard the name again on Friday and it rang a bell." Mark was now seeing the pieces fit together.

"So you went and did your research" he added

"Well yeah, I wanted to check I was on the right track. But I did take a bit of the day just to, you know, mull some stuff over"

"As long as you know you don't have to mull alone" Mark laughed

"I know" said Steve "it's funny, I heard the name and knew it was somebody I…I served with, that should have been enough. That was the reason the dreams started again." He wrung his hands a little "guess it's the detective in me, wanted to check I had the right guy!" 

"So our Mr Douglas is the source of this" Mark continued "You two were friends?"

Steve pondered for a moment "Our paths crossed for a short time. We weren't ever best buddies but for the short time I knew him, he was a good guy, really good in fact. He'd had it tough you know, before he signed up I mean, I suppose I felt sorry for him. He was about the only person I met who felt like he didn't have much to go back to. Made me realise how lucky I was"…."not that I needed much reminding" he added.

Mark smiled warmly at his son. There was silence for a while then Mark asked "If it's not too difficult, do you want to talk about the dreams?"

Steve ran his fingers through his hair and rested his hands on the back of his head, elbows planted on the table. Mark thought for a moment that Steve was about to cry, but with his head dropped and eyes fixed on the tabletop he began to explain.

"Usually the dreams are, non-specific shall we say. They're either a montage of events or they're not even real, y'know, not actually things that happened to me. Maybe they're scenes from bad TV movies or I'm putting stories I've heard into pictures. Maybe it's just my imagination. But this time it's been different. The dream I had on Thursday night, it was a direct action replay you know. Every moment played out in detail, when a second lasts a lifetime, or you try to run and get nowhere" Steve looked up at his father and drawing a deep breath continued. "I talked to Dougie the morning his was injured" he croaked "hell I was talking to him up until the last minute" he broke off and covered his eyes with his hands.

Mark put a reassuring hand on Steve's shoulder, a signal to him that he didn't have to continue. "It's not like I hadn't seen it before" he whispered, and Mark had to lean in closer to hear him "We'd all seen it too many times before but it was so close dad. He was almost as close as you are to me now. It could have been me, that could be me now lying in hospital, living in a wheelchair".

Mark rubbed his hand soothingly over Steve's back as he sat shaking his head, almost in disbelief over what might have been. "Seeing him lying there this morning made me realise how lucky I am, that I was able to get back to a normal life". Mark felt like pointing out to Steve that nobody who left Vietnam did so in the same state as they'd gone there. But Steve knew that, he was referring to the physical aspect. In Steve's case that involved a hard road to recovery, but ultimately he was left unimpaired. Then something clicked in Marks head.

"You went to see him in the hospital?" Mark asked

"Just for a moment, he was asleep. I just wanted to check the details on his chart. I know that was wrong but I wanted to be sure it was him. It's funny, after all this time the first place I see him again is in a hospital bed, the last time I saw him he was laid out in the field hospital."

"Do you think you'll go and visit him again. When he's awake this time I mean?"

Steve shook his head "I don't really think so. I'm not into all that reunion glory day stuff. And it's kinda unfair to surprise him when he's like a sitting duck in his hospital room. I've got his address, but I don't know that I feel like talking to him right now. I'll let the dust settle first, maybe in a few weeks or so I'll drop him a line. I'm just pleased I figured where the dreams came from all of a sudden, kinda stupid isn't it?"

Mark smiled hesitantly at Steve who was still buried in thought. "I'm gonna take a little walk" he said, realising that his son needed some space "I'll see you in a bit"

"It's late" Steve called out as Mark made his way onto the deck

"Won't be long" his father replied stepping onto the moonlit beach.

SUNDAY,10:35

The warm morning sun streamed into the Sloans beach house as Mark sat on the deck leafing through a newspaper. Steve appeared in the doorway, bleary eyed, stretching his arms and squinting in the sun. "Can't believe I slept through the alarm" he croaked as he took a seat next to his father.

"I'm pleased you did" Mark replied "you needed it". There was a pause "Did you sleep all night?"

Steve smiled, he knew what he was asking "I was pretty restless 'til about two thirty, three, after that I just crashed. But I feel better, much better in fact. Now I can put all this behind me, …again" he stressed. He looked out at the golden beach "I'm gonna get ready for a run then I should do some paper work, back to work tomorrow" he exclaimed.

"OK, Jesse and Amanda are coming over for lunch so don't make it a marathon".

Steve nodded and re-entered the beach house. Mark was still concerned about his son, it seemed as if he'd packed this episode away too neatly. Knowing Steve he'd be glad he'd figured out the cause of the nightmares so quickly, proud of his detective skills almost. But he was likely to assume this was the end of it, one half-decent night sleep and he convinces himself it's out of his system. Mark knew all to well that nothing was further from the truth.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 ****

Chapter 3

WEDNESDAY,20:17

Steve slammed his car door and strode into the beach house, slamming the front door and marching into the kitchen. He almost ripped the fridge door from it's hinges, grabbed a carton of juice and, for good measure, slammed the door shut with a thud. He turned to see three very different expressions looking up at him from the kitchen table; his father in concern, Amanda in embarrassment and Jesse in what seemed to be amusement. Steve made no effort to greet any of them, merely grunted something about being sick of spending his day with scum of the earth and stormed down to his apartment, slamming his door as he went.

After a moment of silence Mark spoke softly, gesturing in the direction of the recent tornado through the house "That" he stated "that is what I mean when I say he's been in an awful mood. Almost three weeks I've had that now, it's like living with a teenager again."

"Wow" said Jesse "that's more than getting out of the wrong side of bed. He must have said something to you about what's up"

"I'm telling you" Mark continued "he won't even accept that he's acting oddly. Say's there's nothing wrong with his mood, I'm just prying. Oh and something about me wanting him to be screwed up so I can be the one to sort him out. I am getting really worried now, I honestly don't know what to do".

"He's been distant when I've seen him at work, he was in my lab a couple of days ago following up on the Schultz case" Amanda added. "But he seemed more distracted than aggressive". She thought for a while "though come to think of it I called him at the station, query he had about one of the victims and he was pretty snappy then, I figured it was work related. How has he been sleeping?" 

"From what I can tell" Mark replied "he's been restless, up through the night watching TV, but I haven't heard anything else, not since those nightmares at the start of this whole thing".

"And you're convinced his mood is still related to my patient?" Jesse added

Mark nodded, "has to be, he has a string of terrifying nightmares, comes face to face with an awful realisation of how his life could have turned out, and in less than a week he's acting like nothing happened. Then 'bang', a week after that I'm living with him in this state" he paused "Or maybe I'm not". Jesse and Amanda shot him quizzical looks. Without prompting Mark continued in a quiet, saddened hush "He's talking about moving out, don't know if he's serious or not but it's the last thing I want to happen". He pondered a moment "I'm no psychologist Jesse but Steve tried too hard to brush this under the carpet, we all know there's no quick fix for this.

"So what's the plan?" Amanda started "We can't just leave him like this". She knew she was stating the obvious and hoped not to hurt Marks feelings in doing so. "What I mean", she continued, "is that if he won't talk to you then would you like one of us to try?".

"I don't think he's going to talk to any of us, I don't even know that he'd listen" Mark replied, shaking his head in defeat.

"And in that mood he's probably gonna try and knock my head off my shoulders if I go trying to play big brother" Jesse added.

"Well" continued Amanda "He may not talk, he may not listen, but I know Steve" She stood with her arms braced down on the kitchen table " and Steve would never hit a woman". The curl of her lip however did not match her determined tone.

With Marks shrug of apathy, Amanda sighed and made her way down to Steve's apartment. Mark and Jesse shared a glance, eyebrows raised as they heard her knock sharply on Steve's door.

WEDNESDAY,20:35

Amanda stood leaning defiantly on the doorframe, Steve hadn't really invited her in, just sort of left the door half open as he continued with, what she presumed was 'tidying up'. She was no feng-shui expert but this place had bad vibes. It felt dingy down here, warm and depressing. Steve continued bustling around her, moving clothes from piles on the floor to piles on a chair, rummaging through drawers and leafing through papers. She stayed there quietly watching him, his brow furrowed and she thought maybe even his teeth were clenched.

After a long while Steve faced Amanda and let out a sharp breath "I told him already, I'm fine" he barked "That stuff with the Douglas guy is over, couple of crappy dreams and he's trying to force me into a nervous breakdown. I had a bad day at work, what does he want me to say? Look Amanda" he continued, barely pausing for breath "It's good that he cares and whatever, but he needs to drop this. I'm not crazy" he yelled "I don't need to see a shrink or to sit pouring my guts out to him, so you can go and tell him I'm fine".

Amanda was visibly upset by Steve's outburst, and for that he felt bad. But he was annoyed she was down here doing his fathers dirty work. He continued tidying up, expecting her to leave given his petulant remarks. He couldn't blame her or his father for that matter, caring for him wasn't a crime. Maybe it should be, he thought to himself and almost smiled. He opened the closet door, threw some bed sheets towards the linen basket and missed. He slammed the door shut and when it bounced back open he gave it a couple of kicks for good measure. Standing back he could see the damage to the wood and paintwork, went to give it another kick but stopped. Behind him he heard a faint gasp, almost a sob. He turned slowly.

With a lump in her throat Amanda timidly asked "What happened?" She hadn't realised how tight her voice box was until she heard the whimper from her lips. Steve hadn't realised that she was still standing there watching him. Tears started to brim in her eyes yet Steve didn't answer. The truth was he didn't know what she was asking. The heavy drops began to roll down her cheeks leaving Steve in a guilty state of silence. Amanda too felt bad, she hoped he didn't mistake these for crocodile tears intended as some sort of emotional blackmail.

Finally, with his head dropped, Steve attempted to reply "You mean what happened in..when I served in" Amanda shook her head.

"Here Steve" she croaked. "What made you decide that Mark's out to hurt you, what happened that made you think you couldn't talk to Jesse?" She paused "What made you think you couldn't come to me Steve?" her voice broke now and her fingertips rested on her brow, hand trying to hide the tears flowing down her face. "We're supposed to be friends, for goodness sake Steve, don't you know how much I care about you?"

Steve couldn't remember seeing his friend this upset before, hated the fact that he apparently, was the cause. Amanda continued to lean against the doorframe, arms tightly wrapped around herself, no attempt made at concealing her tears now. With all the negative feelings he had bottled up inside himself right now he didn't know what he could say to make her feel better. Layers of guilt, aggression and despair surrounded a solid core of self-loathing. He couldn't begin to explain 'what happened' to Amanda, there was no 'start', just a whole lot of pain in a hugely tangled web. He would never presume to lumber such a beautiful person with those horrors. He realised he was just standing there, making no attempt to explain or comfort her, another perfect tear rolled down her cheek, following the well worn path of it's predecessors. Steve stepped forwards and brushed it away with his thumb, allowing his palm to rest on her face. Without hesitation Amanda slipped her arms around Steve's waist and buried herself into his chest. He rested his face on top of her head and for a few minutes the friends stood there, just supporting each other.

Upstairs Jesse remained at the kitchen table whilst Mark paced the floor. "You look like a first time father in maternity, why don't you sit down?" Jesse suggested.

"Waiting for him to be born wasn't half as draining as this. I just don't know what's going on with him. I know Steve's often reserved emotionally, but this, there is obviously something wrong. A few weeks ago I was worried about him bottling up so much he'd implode, now I think he's like a loose cannon waiting to go off. How long has she been down there?" Mark asked, looking at his watch "ah, I don't think they're even talking. I know Amanda's not a bad amateur psychologist but she may have her work cut out. Shouldn't have let her go down there" he muttered as if she'd entered the lions den. "Do you hear them talking?" he asked as he tiptoed to the top of the stairs. 

Down below the pair loosened the hug they'd been locked in and stood facing each other, arms slung casually around each others hips. Amanda looked up at Steve through puffy red eyes. "You OK?" she whispered, and Steve nodded in reply. She didn't believe him, but managed a faint smile "Good, 'cos I know that whatever it is that's happened, the last few weeks have been a little rough on you. And I know me coming down here and blubbing like a fool was the last thing you needed. I'm sorry". She managed another faint smile but Steve's expression remained quite stern.

He paused for a moment, glancing over Amanda's shoulder to avoid her gaze. She felt him fidgeting, he seemed uncomfortable with their stance now so Amanda pulled away. Steve let his hands stay resting on her hips and gently closed his eyes. "I never told you how much I value your friendship Amanda". It came across as a very stark statement, there was no emotion in his voice. He was quiet again, but when Amanda didn't reply he picked up on the same theme "I love being around you, and CJ" he paused and opened his eyes, looking straight at Amanda. She wore a look he couldn't quite place, and Steve continued to speak "Don't worry" he felt his lip curl into a smirk "I'm not about to drop to one knee, I'm talking about friendship, pure and simple." 

Amanda's expression changed suddenly, she now wore a dreamy, almost smug look. "Cut it out" joked Steve, and Amanda beamed "I've flattered you all I'm gonna so no point batting your eyelids and waiting for more". Amanda giggled, she was so relieved to hear Steve talk like that again. At last there was emotion in his voice, and his face, and it didn't seem at all negative. She was so happy all of a sudden, yet was totally caught off guard as Steve firmly cupped her face in his strong hands and kissed her forehead. "I love you Amanda" he said, half reverting back to his matter of fact tone. It sounded strange to her, to hear him saying those words, but she knew exactly what he meant; she knew because she felt the same. 

From the top of the stairs Mark peered down through the open door of the apartment. He did a double take, lowered the glasses to the end of his nose, and smiled mischievously to himself as he watched Amanda and Steve again embracing warmly.

****

Narative

In the following weeks Steve's mood continued to swing, though on a decreasing scale. Much to his father's relief, he'd begun to open up, just a little, enough to give him hope in the outcome of the situation. More importantly he'd given up talking about moving out of the beach house. Whilst Amanda had become Steve's main confidant, Jesse was acting as entertainment's manager; a fishing trip here, a night out there. Both were important to Steve now as he tried to balance his emotions. Mark had talked initially about Steve seeking professional help but hadn't mentioned it since. The response had been laced with accusation and Mark wanted to do as little damage to their fragile relationship as was possible. Steve now mainly dictated the topics of their chats.

****

Chapter 3 Continued

SATURDAY,15:35

Steve hadn't intended to visit Amanda today, but automatic pilot of recent weeks just seemed to bring him this way as he drove across town. He sat in the car looking across at the house. "Should I go over?" he though. He decided better of it, didn't like to arrive unannounced though she'd said anytime was OK. As he sat in a world of his own a dark blue sedan pulled up across the street and honked the horn. Amanda, dressed in blue jeans and a powder blue sweatshirt skipped down the steps of the house and down to the roadside.

CJ flopped into Amanda's arms as she picked him out of the child seat in the back of the car. Steve didn't recognise the driver, blonde woman, thin but hard to tell much more from behind. "Thanks again" Amanda smiled as she waved her friend goodbye. "My poor baby" she cooed looking down at her son in her arms, yet she started to smirk. 'Fantastic' she thought, not the candy-fuelled devil she'd expected but a worn out little boy, ready for his afternoon nap. She climbed the steps then turned to close the door, but something caught her eye. Steve. He was smiling, but as he realised he'd been spotted his face dropped. "Great" he muttered "now she thinks I'm stalking her". Amanda raised a hand to acknowledge she'd seen him and Steve replied sluggishly in the same way. She started back down the steps and saw Steve freeze where he sat. "Oh-oh" she muttered "don't know if I can keep doing this". As she was almost up to the car, Steve slowly got out and walked to meet her. 

"Looks like someone else didn't sleep too well" He gestured towards CJ, 

"Too much Jell-O I think, but it's good, I was expecting a hyperactive sugar-high infant". Steve smiled as he rubbed CJ's cheek, but Amanda was concentrating more on the pensive look her friend wore.

Once Amanda had finished settling CJ she returned to the living room. Steve was pacing the floor like a caged animal. "Drink?" Amanda asked but Steve didn't reply. He fumbled with a picture frame, running his finger along the mantle piece, then moved to the window. All the time he avoided turning to face Amanda. 

"How's Dad?" he asked. That was usually his first question to her. It seemed odd given they lived together but she always humoured him. Come to think of it she did the same for Mark. 

"He's fine" she chirped "working too hard, worrying too much", Steve nodded. 

Amanda sat quietly, Steve still kept his back turned. She'd learnt now it was best to let him start of his own accord. He'd avoid eye contact as much as possible, only usually look at her once he was in flow with some memory, or theory or fear. "It just happens, I don't know why. The..the..the nightmares start" He stammered "Sometimes it's easy, y'know a call from an old friend, stupid film on TV and you say, 'yeah, that's what triggered it', then it's gone. But then sometimes you don't know, or they're worse than usual and you just think, what if they don't stop, what if they don't get better". 

This was a topic they'd discussed before, Steve knew why he'd had the nightmares again so she guessed now he was asking her when they'd stop. "It will get better" she tried to assure him. She cursed herself, this wasn't as easy as it looked, her answers always sounded so benign. 

"It gets better but then it gets worse" he snapped. "I had 3 mediocre nights in a row this week". 

"And then?" Amanda enquired. 

"Last night, no real nightmares but then again no real sleep" he laughed a little to himself. "Difficult when you're almost afraid to close your eyes. Night before that…" He broke off, and began again in an exaggerated voice "Door Number 1, wide awake with thoughts and images, brain a collage of some nightmarish world. Door Number 2" he no longer mocked, changing his tone "asleep in a terrifying, endless god damn reality"

The wheels started to whirl in his head again and Steve tried desperately to take control of his thoughts. He had to do something, one way or the other. The only thing he knew was he couldn't go on like this, he had to stop this hell in his brain.

"Steve" she said softly, but he stood, framed by the window, head held low. "Steve, you know how much I want to help you, but I don't know that we're making progress here. I don't want to cause you any more pain than.."

"Enough said" he interrupted. Offended by her remark Amanda wondered, or just a defence mechanism? God, he had her talking like a shrink now. 

"Maybe you should talk to.." 

Again cut off by his bark "Talk to dad, talk to a professional, someone at work. Phone a friend ask the goddamn audience? Yeah Amanda, you just admitted yourself talking really helps" he mocked.

"If you didn't think so then why come here?" 

She'd hit the nail on the head, he was cornered now and was kicking himself for it. Stay and take advantage of a friend willing to help, or turn and run? "Hey, I didn't intend coming in, if you didn't want me here I'm sorry for wasting your.." 

"Fine, run then" Amanda butted in just as he reached the door. 

Damn she was good he thought to himself. For the first time Steve turned to face her. She couldn't read his expression but as he leant back against the door she knew he was ready to talk. Sometimes it took an outburst like that for him to open up a little. 

"It's different you know" Steve spoke softly. There had been many times in the last hour she was sure that her friend's voice would break. He'd talked at length about shielding his mother from his experiences of the war, and how a less than perfect relationship with Mark had made it difficult for him to open up all those years ago. He hadn't spoken about family much before, probably due to her friendship with Mark. Although she wanted to help she was almost frightened to hear some things. She wished she could tell him to talk to Mark but would he really think that she didn't care? She couldn't risk pushing him away, risk him closing up again when he seemed so ready now. 

"What's different?" She finally asked. 

"Seeing the cause" he replied. "Cause and effect. We've both seen the effect. You see it every day. Bodies on gurneys, the effects of car wrecks, cancer, drugs, guns, you see it every day. But watching the cause, hearing the shells, feeling the bullets fly past you and listening to the screams. Sometimes now I think the cause is worse than the effect". He ran his hands back through his hair. "I thought I'd freak, seeing my first corpse on the job, when I joined the police, but it was so..so…so disengaged. I hadn't watched him die. He wasn't a friend. Hell, he wasn't even the enemy, just a body in a bag. Sure he'd been shot, but a single bullet, straight through the heart, he knew nothing about it". Amanda's brow furrowed as Steve continued. "Even now, I hear bullets fly in the street, even see a guy go down but it's not the same. It's like there's always a way out, always back-up, paramedics on the way. Kind of makes me a monster doesn't it?" 

Amanda shook her head "you're no monster" she assured him, squeezing his arm in the way she always did. "The things you saw, things I don't ever want to imagine seeing, they were the cause and these nightmare, and feelings, they're the effect. You're right Steve, I deal with corpses ever day. Corpses, bodies. Not people, not friends. And when I leave the path lab at night, I don't have to think 'will it be me next, in a car wreck, or with cancer, or shot in the street'. Sure any of those things are _possible_ but not _probable_. The cause and effect you saw was real. You knew it could happen to you, that it was more of a _probable_ than a _possible_." Steve focused on the floor between his feet, breathing deeply. She stroked the side of his face, "Talk to Mark", the words were out before she knew it. 'Must have picked that up from Jesse she thought'. 

Steve sat silently for a moment then made his way towards the door. He paused. "Thanks Amanda" was all he said before making his way across the street to his car. 

SATURDAY,18:14

Mark sat on the deck, staring blankly out over the ocean. He felt strangely relaxed this evening, as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He didn't know why he felt this way, he and Steve were talking more and Steve was slamming fewer doors and watching less late night TV. Mark smiled warmly, he couldn't help it, he'd slept well for the first time in days and the warm breeze had an almost cleansing quality to it.

Steve pulled into the driveway of the beach house he shared with his father. Dumping his keys on the mantle piece he made his way towards the kitchen. He could see his father sitting out on the deck, looking over the ocean; just sitting looking, as he would when he needed to think; Steve smiled as he thought how similar they could be. Then it hit him. For a split second Steve got that feeling of dread and despair, it was gone as soon as he acknowledged it, but it was terrifying all the same; "I should just turn and go" he thought "leave and never come back, give him nothing to worry about". The well-rehearsed speech he intended to give his father seemed as great an obstacle as it had been that day in 1972 when he'd returned home. Steve took a slow breath in and stepped out onto the deck.

Mark tried his best not to grin as he saw his son walking slowly towards him. There was an awkward tension in the air and for a few, endless seconds neither father nor son spoke a word. Steve broke the silence.

"Been a good day" he observed, pointing off towards to the horizon.

Mark turned and smiled broadly "yes, it's was a beautiful morning, beautiful view. How are you, you sleep well? I was just gonna fix some dinner if you want some", he realised that his mouth was running away with the show here, but Steve seemed almost amused by his fathers fussing.

"I don't know if Amanda filled you in but she and I had a little chat earlier today". 

"No" replied Mark, rather taken aback. Steve was also clearly surprised, surprised that his friend hadn't been straight on the phone the moment he'd left. He trusted Amanda but he'd always assumed she was passing on bits of their chats to his dad.

"Well, we had a chat about some stuff and she suggested I go over it with you. Which was my intention coming over here except now I don't know if it's such a good idea". Mark remained silent but nodded understandingly. "It's just, the stuff we talked about, I think maybe once a day is enough, maybe I'll fix dinner and if you're around later or tomorrow we can talk when I've got some of it straight in my mind". 

"I'm here when ever you need me" Mark said, his voice charged with emotion. 

Steve stood for a moment then looked out across the beach.

"Tell you what dad" he began "why don't we leave dinner for a while, I feel like taking a walk, blow the cobwebs off". Mark looked concerned all of a sudden, he hoped Steve wasn't going to run off again, clam up just when he hoped they were going to make progress. Steve stepped down onto the sand, then called back to his father "well am I walking alone, or are you gonna keep me company?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 ****

Chapter 4

SATURDAY,20:49

The two contrasting figures sat in the golden sand, one broad and strong looking, the other smaller, almost frail in appearance. Father and son had walked slowly along the waters edge before returning to this spot, just in front of their home. Their conversation had been sporadic; there'd been long pauses which Mark had tried his hardest not to view as a blank canvas which just had to be filled. Steve had spoken about Jesse and Amanda a lot, and it was obvious to Mark that Steve found their mutual friends a great source of comfort as he did himself. 

Steve turned to look at his father, who was intently watching a pair of surfers a little way down the beach, trying to catch their last waves of the day. He looked at his face, he looked old, but he wasn't, not really Steve thought. He tried to compare his features to the young man who'd given him piggyback rides in the back yard and tended to his scraped knees. Steve let out a small laugh.

"What's the joke?" Mark asked, smiling at his son. 

"Ah nothing" Steve replied. Then he saw the look of disappointment on his fathers face. "No really, noting important" he added, "just, ah, thinking how you used to fix me up after a fall, when I was a kid. You probably never guessed you'd still be doing it today". 

Mark chuckled "No, maybe not, but that's what I'm here for. Bloodied knees, bumped heads, poison ivy. Must admit the broken bones and bullet wounds have been a little harder on the stomach. Seems like you've been hanging out with the big boys lately." 

Steve nodded "yeah, there's some unpleasant people out there. And their rules are a little harder to understand. When you're a kid, it's pretty simple, what's right and wrong, where you can go, how late you can stay out, roads you can't cross without someone to hold your hand". There was a pause as Steve jabbed a stick into the soft sand, and Mark looked on, waiting for him to start again.

"It was gone so quickly" Steve continued "we were kids one minute, your enemy was the guy who got your place on the team. 'Tidy your room' was a command. Being_grounded_for_a_week was an eternity. Everything was so small, so safe, there were rules we all knew and the back door was always open if you needed to run home."

Mark could feel lump in his throat, his stomach was tight. He hoped there were no tears in his eyes, for Steves sake. He wanted to be strong for him. Steve was in flow now, as though he talked like this every day. The words he were saying, they weren't planned, not the speech he'd rehearsed time and time again in his head, but he didn't feel like stopping. He wasn't sure what he was going to say next, so he just kept talking, and listening as if hearing these thoughts for the first time himself.

"It was just such a jump, from the school yard to that. And the cause and effect thing I was telling you about, that I talked to Amanda about. I know you can relate to that too. But the lines are so blurred. The rules, the rules…." Steve trailed off again. His thoughts hadn't been that well structured, he'd jumped around within a few themes but Mark didn't care. His son had opened up to him. He was relieved in some ways, he'd been preparing himself for a more graphical account of his experiences, maybe a single incident recounted in great detail and played out in his nightmares. But what Steve was talking about, well they were feelings. Like a scrapbook full of little emotions rolled together at different times, triggering different memories. 

Steve let a handful of sand trickle through his fingers. "Desertion. Men shot for being in shock, can you believe that? Some of them had served for years then they're branded cowards 'cos they can't take any more. It's about discipline of course, let one run off you might have a mutiny on your hands." He paused again. "You'd get the rumours, we're pulling out, or we're winning, it'll all be over in a month. But you can't think about next month, you could be dead in five minutes. Maybe that's how you learn to kill, life's so fragile, so temporary that killing seems almost….almost, I don't know. It's a game, kill as many of them as you can before they kill you. Kill! You were a doctor, mom couldn't even swat a fly and there I was programmed to murder on a daily basis all in the name of humanity. I'd think about going home. Not deserting, not in reality, just dreaming I guess. I'd walk in and mom would be fussing and you'd be telling her to give me some space, and then we'd close the door. We'd be safe again."

Mark waited for Steve to start again, but he just sat silently, staring at the sand as he let it trickle through his fingers. He'd opened up so much this evening, and Mark wanted to let him know he appreciated it, that he knew how hard it had been for him. His last statement played over again in his head 'we'd be safe again', not 'me', not 'I'd be safe', 'we'd be safe'. Interesting choice of words Mark thought.

"Steve" he started, speaking softly "you don't know how long I've waited to hear you talk like that" Steve glanced up at his father. "Now, if it's OK with you, there's some things I'd like to say". Steve didn't speak, but after a moments thought he nodded slowly "I guess it's a fair trade".

Mark had tried to talk in much the same way Steve had at first, off the cuff, but he was frustrated that he wasn't really getting his point across. He'd said that and Steve admitted he felt the same about his earlier ramblings. Mark concentrated more now, Steve could see it in his face, he was treading carefully, thinking about each individual word he spoke.

"Can I tell you something?" Mark continued "Something that really hurt". He looked towards his son, whose eyes were focused somewhere out to sea. "I'm not saying this to hurt you, or blame you, I hope you understand that. But when you'd say you were a disappointment to me, that hurt. Because you weren't, you never could be. I don't know what I did to make you think it in the first place, but I'm telling you now" he paused "I have _always_ been proud of you, of what you've done, and of the man you are". Steve turned to face his father. 

"The man _I am_. How about the boy _I was_, off killing while you were saving lives"?

Mark was utterly taken aback, he hadn't expected such a response, didn't know how to answer. Steve hadn't sounded angry, just curious. He let out a sigh and rubbed his temple. "Did you honestly think I was disappointed when you signed up?" Mark asked, truly shocked.

"Well you told me so, so what else was I to think"?

The response this time had more venom. Silence followed.

"I was worried, I didn't want you to go. You had a future ahead of you I just couldn't understand why you'd do it. I said so many things in the days before you left. But I wasn't ashamed, Steve, I don't know how to put that right, I'm sorry".

Steve could tell his dad was distressed, without looking at him, he reached out and gripped his arm. "I know what you think of me now, and I know the person I was then. Two different things, here and now we are OK, so lets forget about it" Steve smiled "time for dinner". He pushed himself to his feet and turned towards the house.

"No" snapped Mark "No Steve, lets not forget about it, let's not cover it up and wait for next time" Mark stood glaring at his son who he'd clearly caught off guard.

"Look dad, this has been good but let's drop it for now" Steve replied sternly. But Mark knew he had the chance now to get to the bottom of this. Or drive a wedge between them, but that was a risk he was going to take.

"I lied for you" Mark spat "I looked your mother in the eye and told her you were going to get better, that it wouldn't be like that forever. And here we are, it's not better. I'm not saying it ever will be, not completely but don't keep shutting me out".

Steve looked furious and for a moment Mark thought he was going to knock him out flat. He breathed heavily through his nose, almost snorting as he tried to regulate his breathing, kerb his anger. "And I lied for you, dad. Every day since I signed up to go to that damn place I've lied for you. I lied about why I signed up. I wanted to make you proud, to show you I had dedication, compassion even, not that you'd understand. You just told me it was mindless destruction and that I'd come home in a body bag, break mom's heart. Not yours, never mentioned that. I went there to make you proud, you'd told me I'd got it wrong before I was even out the door. And did you think when I came back that I was OK? Did you believe that because I told you so? Or did you believe it because it was easier than hearing the truth? You'd come home from the hospital, after a day of playing the good doctor and tell mom about all the broken people you'd fixed. What was I supposed to do? Tell you about all the people I broke and expect you to console me. I was out _killing_ while you were saving lives. Mom _adored_ you, _worshipped_ you. How could she even look at me knowing what I'd done? All I could do was pretend it had never happened, hope she'd accept me again. And she did". Steve smiled for a second, but his eyes saddened as he began to remember. 

"And she made me good square meals to get me back up to strength. She told me all about the goings on in the neighbourhood, who'd married who and what kind of car the Robinson's had bought. She did everything she could, everything I wanted her to do. Because if she'd ever stopped and looked me in the eye, or asked me to tell her what I was thinking, I..I…" Steve began to choke "I think I'd have curled up and cried and I might never have stopped".

Mark looked at his son, standing before him, shoulders slumped, shaking in the cooling night breeze. Just as Mark moved towards him, Steve started to speak again, softly.

"I see it all in my brain, like a million images in one frame. And the noises too, the noises and the smell and the heat. And sometimes I can switch it off and other times it's just there, playing in the background. I've gone months without dreams, then they start again, and that place" he paused "Vietnam, was only half of it. Coming home was the other half. And I still get days…..when I don't think I'm gonna survive this part. I've thought in the past, how much easier it would have been to come back in a body bag. Or if I'd jumped off McKinnley bridge that first Christmas Eve instead of facing the family. Or if this morning I'd just got up and walked out of your life, so I'd never have to face telling you how much this still hurts." 

Suicide. Mark felt his stomach lurch, his son was standing in front of him talking about suicide. How had he never picked up on it all those years ago? Had Steve hidden it that well, or had he himself been looking the other way? "Oh god" he thought, did Steve think he'd known about it yet ignored it?

Mark closed his eyes tight, still determined not to cry for Steve's sake. "I just kept thinking how quickly it had all gone". The voice still hushed. "We'd never go out back and shoot hoops again, I'd never spend Saturday nights just cruising around with the guys. We'd never argue over curfews or chores or allowance. The world wasn't safe and small any more dad. It wasn't like quitting military school as a kid. I didn't understand the rules and I couldn't run home anymore. Someone locked the door."

Mark had turned to face the ocean again. He shook his head. Steve stood motionless behind him and for a while they just stood like that, not knowing what to say or do next. Mark tried to comprehend this, the last phrase had torn right through him. His own flesh and blood, his precious son had felt locked out of his own family. Mark couldn't think of a single word to say. 

"I'm sorry dad" Steve started after a moment, slumping to the ground, head resting in his hands. Mark was startled by the weakness of his voice. "I'm not angry, please don't think I'm angry, I..I..I wanted to tell you, but not like this. I don't blame you, it's not that. You helped me, you help me every day by being here and mom too, she was perfect. I was screwed up, am screwed up, please don't think I blame you, dad please, I don't want to hurt you by talking about all this stuff, please."

Marks heart bled with the tone of Steves voice and the pleas for acceptance. A child apologising for a baseball through the window. "Ah Steve" he said, crouching beside him and grabbing his son by the arms "just talk, and keep talking if it's gonna help. And if you want to curl up and cry and keep crying then do that too. And don't worry about hurting me, because you can't, not if you're involving me, letting me help. You spent too long protecting your mother and I, and we spent too long letting you. You lost a lot Steve. You lost friends and faith, and you lost your youth. I can't bring those back now, but look at what you've become, look how far you've moved on. You are a remarkable person, and I am _so_ proud of you." As Steve began to gently sob Mark pulled him close. "Just keep going" he whispered "don't stop it now". 

SUNDAY,08:36

Mark stood at the foot of the stairs smiling. On the couch Steve lay peacefully asleep, blanket covering him. It didn't look like he'd moved a muscle the whole night, and Mark certainly hadn't heard him stir. He'd no doubt be a little embarrassed this morning, Steve wasn't somebody who'd show his true emotions that often, let alone cry. Mark himself had been in tears by the time he got to bed last night, and had talked silently to Katherine for hours before he drifted off to sleep.

As he quietly made his way around the kitchen fixing breakfast snippets of conversation replayed in his mind.

"Mom _adored_ you, _worshipped_ you. How could she even look at me knowing what I'd done?" Jealousy? Fear of rejection. Being a disappointment.

He filled the kettle.

"We'd close the door. We'd be safe again". We, us, family.

Reaching a mug down from the cupboard.

"I couldn't run home anymore. Someone locked the door." Nowhere safe, alienation.

Taking a spoon from the drawer.

"I think I'd have curled up and cried and I might never have stopped". Longing to talk, to bring it all out into the open. Wanting to ask for help but afraid to. Afraid of rejection? Afraid of feelings so strong they maybe couldn't be controlled.

Kettle billowing steam.

"if I'd jumped off McKinnley bridge that first Christmas Eve instead of facing the family".

Mark stopped, closed his eyes and steadied himself on the kitchen table.

Suicide. So specific, not 'do something drastic', not even 'a bridge' or 'sometime'. McKinnley bridge, Christmas Eve. He'd actually planned to…Mark stopped himself, took a deep breath.

As he poured the coffee his memory kept flicking back to that Christmas. Katherine had cried as they sat at the dinner table; excused herself and spent almost a half-hour holed up in the kitchen. Steve hadn't been festive but he really hadn't seemed that withdrawn as far as Mark could remember. He'd even agreed to pose for a photo with Carol. She'd flung her arms around his shoulders as they stood beside the tree; he was wearing a dark shirt and pants, Carol's smart little skirt suit was hidden beneath a huge navy sweatshirt, red stripe down the sleeves. It looked ridiculous but Steve had bought it for her, whether she genuinely liked it or was simply being polite he never quite figured out. "Since when's your little sister been a 'large?'" Mark had asked, "Since it was the only one left in the store" Steve'd replied. Mark had made some remark about him leaving his gift shopping to the last minute.

Last minute shopping, big mall just outside of town. Christmas Eve. "Why did you go all the way out there?" he'd asked. Steve mentioned something about being out that way, "driving and thinking". Driving over McKinnley bridge. 

Was that the plan, no need to buy Christmas gifts because he didn't plan on being around? Got out there and changed his mind, carried on to the mall and bought stuff, pretended nothing had happened? Or was it the reverse, last minute shopping, thinking about Christmas spirit and happy families? Crossing the bridge and realising how quickly it would all be over? 

Mark almost jumped out his skin as Steve placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You alright dad?" the groggy voice asked "you don't look so good, here sit down". Steve pulled out a chair and helped Mark ease into it.

Mark just nodded as he caught his breath, Steve had given him a shock, but he knew he'd be croaky if he talked now. Steve handed him a glass of water and crouched by his side obviously worried by his father's appearance.

Mark smiled as Steve placed a protective arm around his shoulder "you scared the living daylights out of me!" he muttered. 

Steve chuckled "Sorry", and pulled a chair up close to his father. They sat with shoulders almost touching. "It looks like you were the one who didn't sleep last night" he quipped noting the bags under Marks eyes. Again a nod of the head was the only response. Marks eyes started to redden, Steve lent across, and resting his chin on Marks shoulder, draped a protective arm around him again.

"Dad" he whispered "Don't be sad. Please. I don't like you being upset. I know you say it doesn't matter, I can tell you anything, but I won't, not if it's going to make you feel like this. The same goes for Amanda, I think I've taken advantage of her kindness. She doesn't need to deal with this and either do you."

Mark was about to butt in but Steve continued "Some stuff, sure, I want to tell you, want your opinion on, but other stuff…I think you were right dad, maybe I should talk to someone." He paused "Someone I don't know, someone who knows about these kinds of things. Can you put me in touch with somebody like that?"

Mark again nodded wearily but his eyes were brighter "If that's what you want, sure I can. But don't let me force you Steve, and don't worry about me, I'm here for you _whatever _you have to say."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 ****

Chapter 5

MONDAY,11:20

Mark strolled into the ER and managed a faint smile as he realised how unusually quiet the place seemed. Jesse appeared from one of the exam rooms with a young girl and whom he presumed to be her father. 

"So you're going to leave the wrestling up to the professionals now?" Jesse teased the girl, and she nodded shyly as her father led her by the hand past Mark. "Sprained wrist, African Death Grip on her big brother" Jesse explained. 

"Oh" said Mark nodding, "I remember Carol breaking her toe, kicked Steve square on the shin during a fun fight. Not that their fights ever had that much fun in them, not when they were older at least", Mark shook his head. "So, Dr Travis, has it been this hectic all morning?" playfully opening his arms wide as they stood together in the empty waiting room. 

"Dare I say it" Jesse whispered as he leaned towards Mark "but yes!" The pair smiled as they strolled into the doctor's lounge. "How's Steve doing? Haven't seen him for a few days" 

"He's doing pretty well" replied Mark cheerily as they each pulled up a chair at the table. Just then Amanda appeared in the doorway. "Hey you two, what's this, not giving you enough work?" 

"What's this yourself" Jesse replied "they must be giving you too much time off if you're using it to hang out here". 

"I know" said Amanda "But CJ has another birthday party 11:30 'til 2, he's got a better social life than me! It's Jeanie's turn to pick him up and drop him back, I took her little monster last time. So, I decided an hour or two here to catch up on some paper work, a quick shopping trip, and home to my little man. How's Steve". Jesse liked the way she tagged that bit on, like she wasn't really asking what she'd been bursting to know since she walked in. 

"I was just telling Jesse, he seems to be doing really well". 

"That's good" Amanda sounded reassuring and nodded as she spoke, Mark just smiled. "And he and Dr Keller are getting on alright?"

"From what I gather, I think the first couple of sessions were difficult, you know, opening up to a stranger. But now he's in the routine he seems quite happy about it".

"How often does he go?" Jesse inquired.

"Twice a week, Mondays after work, Thursday afternoons. And so far he hasn't missed which has to be a good sign. I know it's still early days but really, the last few weeks I've noticed such an improvement. He hasn't had a single outburst that I'm aware of " he looked pensive for a moment then continued "the dreams still come and go".

"But all in all" Amanda recapped, trying to focus on the positive "he's moving in the right direction". Mark grinned in confirmation. 

"Well" Jesse said tapping his watch "I'd better get back and man the fort, can't be this quiet all day". 

"I'll join you" added Mark as he rose to his feet, and the three doctors left the lounge together.

MONDAY,21:20

An old black and white movie played on the TV as Mark sat reading through some patient files at home. He looked at his watch; Steve usually got home about ten past nine. He always tried to appear busy when his son arrived back after a session, didn't want to look as if he was just sitting here waiting, which of course is exactly what he was doing. He tried to start Mrs Richardson's file for the third time, looked at his watch again and jumped a little as he heard Steve pull up outside.

Steve opened the door sharply and seemed to be half way across the living room before it closed again. Mark zapped the TV volume up and spread the files around a bit. Steve seemed unusually agitated and it worried Mark, he was usually subdued after a session, would come in and slouch down in a chair for a while. But today he walked straight over to Mark "Hey dad, you busy?" he asked almost breathlessly.

"No, just finished" he lied closing the file and flicking the TV off "something wrong?"

There was a pause. Steve started to speak, changed his mind, paused a while then tried again.

"It's one of those, what's the word? You know, a niggle in your head, doubt, yeah a doubt. You know, one of those nasty little things in the back of your mind you can't put your finger on".

Steve spoke quickly, Mark couldn't really understand what he was getting at "Are you OK?" he asked, as if to clarify that before anything else.

Steve nodded and smiled "yeah, really I'm fine it's just, ah let me get my breath here and I'll start again".

As they sat together on the couch Steve began again. "OK, today we got around to going over some details about Dougie. It was my suggestion actually. Dr Keller refers to our paths crossing as a catalyst, not the cause as such, just a trigger. And I accept that, it's fine but all the time, all the time I had this, this…niggle. Something in my head which didn't quite piece together. So I asked to talk about it tonight." He eventually paused for breath.

Hesitantly now "You OK if I go over some of the details with you?" Mark nodded. "Some stuff about how Dougie got injured?" He was unsure but continued to nod. "and how I got injured?". Mark closed his eyes briefly.

"It's fine Steve" he whispered "if you want to talk I'm here to listen".

Steve drew a deep breath "I only met Dougie a couple of days before he was, I mean we were injured. Scouting groups were being merged and we ended up together. I remember feeling sorry for him, talking to him about life back home. He didn't have any family, spent a lot of time in kids homes, got messed around a lot. He signed up to be part of one big happy family or something. He was young you know, 18."

Mark smiled, Steve was young too he thought, but he didn't interrupt.

"He was a little immature sometimes, goofing around and stuff. But then he could seem so old, he'd already seen so much, even before he signed up. We weren't best buddies, all I'm saying is I liked the guy." He paused and glanced towards Mark, continuing in even slower, softer tones. "So we were out on patrol, it was just turning to dusk and it was raining real heavy." Steve rubbed his hands together as if they were cold. Come to think of it Mark also felt a chill run through him. He'd never heard details of how Steve was injured. It was silly, but even to know that it was raining that day made him feel somewhat sad.

"Things started to go badly, a couple of the new recruits managed to stray a little too far, and then 'boom', all hell broke loose. It was one of those time warps you know, it's all happening so fast it's a blur but at the same time every second just drags, like this is the start of eternity. I was lucky to be standing far enough back from another guy, Mickey I think his name was, kid from Chicago, when he tripped a booby trap. That's when I got those shrapnel nicks down my side and back but god it was nothing. Some of the shrapnel wounds out there were worse than the bullet ones" he observed casually. "I felt the little darts of pain, and the blood was warm even though my skin was cold." He looked at Mark, he needed to know that he was OK with this. He was a doctor, but Steve didn't want to distress him with the details if he wasn't up to it.

"It's OK, go on" Mark prompted. Steve bowed his head and did so.

"There were a few men down already, everybody was screaming for the corpsmen, dragging guys off to the Amtrac. Dougie moved across close to me, he was about 4, 5 feet at the most behind me, I kept glancing back at him over my right shoulder. Then I felt the bullet in my hip, I guess I tried to stay up for a few seconds but my leg just gave way and I crumpled to the ground. That's when it happened. Dougie shouted that I was down and headed towards me. The next foot he put down tripped a booby trap, and that was it. I must have stepped over it, I'd walked there just before him. He was lying there just panting, holding onto this.." Steve hesitated, losing his voice for the first time. "His foot was gone, the rest of his leg looked like it was hanging on by a thread. The shrapnel tore him up, he was bleeding a hell of a lot. I tried to get up to go over to him but my leg just felt dead, useless and I fell back down. I dragged myself over to him and screamed for the corpsmen."

Although they'd sat silently for a few minutes now Mark didn't want to speak. Steve's look told him he hadn't finished, he was just collecting his thoughts, composing himself before continuing.

"We were taken to the hospital in different Amtracs, but when we got there we were on gurneys lined up alongside each other. I looked over at him" Steve turned his head to the left a little, replaying the moment. "They were walking down the line demanding name, rank, number, DOB" he counted them off on his fingers "mother, father, commanding officer and where you'd come in from. What religion you were so they could get you last rites or whatever. Dougie was lying there, pretty out of it, they'd given him his first whack of pain relief, I answered as much as I could for him. He kept trying to pull himself up to a sitting position, pulling on the sheets. Everything was bright red stained in his blood, I told him to lie down. Then he turned to me." His hands shook now, as did his voice "He said 'can you see them Sloan?', I said 'see what' and he said 'my legs, can you see my legs?'. I told him it was going to be OK now but he kept asking 'have I got my legs Sloan? Can you see them'. I told him I could, that one looked a little messed up but he'd be OK."

The colour had drained from Steve's face now, he looked gaunt and continued to shake slightly. He rested his head in his hands and spoke some more "They were so busy, people lay there forever waiting for attention. I kept looking at Dougie's leg, hoping they'd take him away soon. The drugs were wearing off a little and he said he couldn't feel anything, prodding his stomach showing me where the sensation ended. I eventually told him his foot was gone, you know what he said? 'Why the hell didn't you pick it up Sloan? If there was any of you come off I'd' have brought it along'. Almost made me smile, I don't know why." But Steve wasn't smiling now, there was a new, determined tone to his voice. "We lay there, room full of guys bleeding and screaming. I just tried to close my eyes real tight, block it all out, kept thinking I'd got off lightly. As long as I got through the anaesthetic OK and didn't get infected I'd make back. I remembered the horror stories of Doc's who sometimes amputated even when it wasn't necessary. Just crossed my fingers, glancing over at Dougie, thinking at least I had pain, I had my leg and I could feel it."

Steve began to smile a little, then almost beamed. He looked Mark full in the face "Dougie must have thought I'd died or something 'cos he started screaming at me to open my eyes. He said 'didn't you say your ol' man was a doc?' and I said you were, he said 'do you think he'd make a house call for a friend of the family, he'd be here quicker than we're gonna get treated?' We started talking about you and mom and Carol. He asked a load of questions, guess it's 'cos he never had a real family. It was strange talking about you as I lay there. It felt good, 'cos I knew the chances were I'd be home soon, pretty cowardly I guess, but I also felt so, so distant from you all. Lying there in a room with all these mutilated bodies, people dying every second. Carol was probably at school, mom was maybe doing the grocery shopping and you'd be at the hospital. We talked for a bit, I started getting really drowsy and it worried me, but not as much as Dougie did." His words were stronger again, angry, he gritted his teeth as he continued, almost shouting "They kept taking guys off to the Operating Room and _eventually_ they came in to wheel Dougie out. I shouted good luck, they got him over to the door and then stopped, just left him there and went off again! I started screaming, just like everybody else was I guess. When a nurse was eventually close enough to me I grabbed at him, pointed to Dougie and asked why they'd left him there." Dejected now, he shook his head "He said they'd brought another truckload in and were dealing with _emergencies_ first. I started shouting about Dougie waiting too long already and having lost his goddamn foot, they just pinned me down and gave me a shot of something. The next thing I knew I was looking at the ceiling, dribbling."

Mark swallowed hard. The scene Steve had described made him feel sick. He recognised the survivor's guilt, that it was Dougie who stepped on the booby trap and not him. And the guilt that he didn't get medical attention for him sooner. Knowing it would make little difference Mark chipped in anyway "With the injuries Dougie sustained, I doubt any more could have been done medically speaking to improve his prognosis. I honestly don't think he'd be any better off if he'd been treated sooner, the damage was done and it was irreparable." Steve tried hard to believe his fathers words. "When did they take him to surgery?"

"I don't know" Steve whimpered "I was out of it, that was the last I saw of him, he got shipped home, back down to Texas pretty quickly. Never saw or heard from him again, wondered how he was from time to time. Only thing I knew for sure was that he'd survived, didn't know any more details than that." There was a long pause "I saw him lying in that bed, wheelchair, prosthetic propped up against the wall. Jesse talking about him being this obnoxious guy, all self centred, drinking himself to death. He was a great guy, so positive despite his situation. Could have been me dad, and I swear for years after I got home I'd think of that every day as I'd get out of bed. Even now when I get cramp or a twinge or the cold weather stiffens me up, I try and remember how positive the pain was back then. It was something to focus on, something to let you know you were alive. A hell of a lot better than having to ask somebody else if you're legs were still there."

In the last 20 years Steve had never admitted to still having pain from his hip. He limped a little and winced occasionally but he never mentioned it. Mark didn't know whether to be proud or concerned by that fact.

"I'm gonna get a water, want one?" Steve's question snapped Mark out of his thoughts, he nodded and Steve headed towards the kitchen.

MONDAY,21:43

The pair sat in silence on the couch, Steve sipping a glass of water and staring off into the distance. "Dad?" he asked, still focusing somewhere across the room.

"Yes"

"Dad, you know when I came in tonight I said I had this niggle in my mind, something that didn't quite fit." Mark nodded. "I just told you all of that stuff, details and stuff to prove to you my memory is clear. I sometimes wish it wasn't, but it is. Do you believe everything I just told you?" 

Mark was shocked, why would he ask that? "Steve, why wouldn't I believe you? I mean of course I do, I don't understand."

"Tell me dad, tell me that my memory is clear and that I'm not…" he began to laugh "tell me I'm not crazy dad" he chuckled now as he faced his father.

Mark realised he was really expected to responded. He cleared his throat "Steve, I believe you told me the truth, and you certainly are not crazy".

"OK" Steve nodded "hold that thought, 'cos when I actually say what's in my mind, I don't know if either of us are gonna believe that any more." He drew a deep breath and smiling began again.

"It was the wrong leg"

Mark looked puzzled, but Steve didn't expand.

"The wrong leg?" Mark repeated.

"Yes dad, when I saw Dougie at the hospital, it was the wrong leg. Propped against the wall I mean. I don't suppose I looked at it really closely but I must have, you know, noticed it. And that was the doubt in my mind, the missing piece, the wrong leg! It only hit me this morning, I don't know how I didn't realise sooner." He paused "Now you think I'm crazy right?"

Mark waited a few seconds, looking perplexed. "What exactly do you mean Steve, wrong leg in what sense".

Steve turned his head to the right a little and motioned with his hand "He was behind me, I looked over my shoulder and the booby trap was at the far side of him. When we were in the hospital" he gestured to the left now "he was lying there, and I could see his foot missing. Dougie lost his right leg dad. And I'm praying now that you're gonna tell me it was still his right leg missing when he showed up at Community General 'cos I'd swear to god it was a left prosthetic I saw in his room".

Mark pondered a moment, then looking dejected said "It was a long time ago Steve, and you'd just been through an incredibly traumatic experience".

"Don't think you understand how this game works dad" Steve joked "you were supposed to tell me my memory was clear and I'm not crazy, remember?".

They sat smiling at each other "I'll have a word with Jesse, he saw him a lot more than I did, I'm sure he can even pull his chart if necessary."

"I'm not crazy dad, unless Dougie lost his other leg too but only got one prosthetic.."

Mark shook his head "no, he definitely had his other leg"

Steve shrugged, "I don't hold much hope of Jesse solving this one. I'm telling you dad, it's the wrong leg". And with that he left Mark alone to ponder the highly unusual discrepancy.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 ****

Chapter 6

TUESDAY,14:10

"I have a funny feeling you aren't going to put my mind at rest" Steve guessed as a worried looking Jesse entered the doctor's lounge.

"Mr Jonathon Jacob Douglas" he started opening the medical file. "You realise I'm gonna be limited in detail here?" he looked at Steve who nodded in response. In truth he shouldn't be telling Steve anything, but given the circumstances he felt he had to help his friend. "Mr Douglas had his left leg amputated just above the knee in a field hospital in Vietnam in 1972. Other injuries" he stated vaguely "incurred at the time were treated and he was flown back to the States, Texas, where he remained in a VA facility for approximately 8 months. He attended physical therapy sessions for a while afterwards, then there's no medical record for a time, shows up again living in Oregan, few minor medical problems compounded by a heavy drinking and smoking habit. Under care there until about two years ago when he moved to California, registered with a doctor on the west side of town. Then he was admitted here, first time he'd been hospitalised in a long time. Needless to say he didn't enjoy his time with us, don't blame him. I'm sorry Steve, but I saw him plenty of times myself. He lost his left leg, right leg was still there but he was paralysed from the waist down".

Steve shook his head and looked at his father "I'm not crazy" he pleaded "I know what I saw dad, I know how it happened"

"Steve, I don't know what else there is to say. I know it's difficult but I think that you should try and put this behind you" then "you are doing so well" he whispered. "Son, I know this has upset you but Jesse has the proof there, I'm afraid that's all there is to it".

"No" Steve started aggressively "No, I'll just have to.."

"What?" Mark asked.

"I'll have to go and see him"

Mark shook his head "I don't think that would be a good idea".

"Yeah Steve, Marks right" Jesse added "Anyhow, what you gonna do? Walk up to him and ask which one's the real leg. We know that already, it's here" he said waving the file.

There was no response. Steve walked to the door, turned to face them both "I'm not crazy".

TUESDAY,17:06

Steve had been sitting looking at the apartment block for almost 20 minutes now. He hoped Dougie would come out onto the street, he'd somehow feel better confronting him out there. He didn't really want to invade the guys home, like Jesse said, how was he going to explain this whole thing?

"Just get it over with" he said to himself and walked determinedly to the main door. Inside the stairwell was dark and heavily vandalised. It stank, like so many of the places Steve was used to visiting in the course of his investigations. He didn't have to look very far for the right door, number 3, ground floor. "Obviously" he thought, it was unlikely that the elevators would ever work in a place like this. He knocked sharply on the door. He couldn't hear anything at first and was almost relieved. Then there was a noise.

"What d'ya want?" a gruff voice called from inside.

Steve was shocked, just stood there, then the voice hollered again.

"What the hell y' want? I ain't got time for messin' 'round".

"Dougie?" Steve asked.

"Who the hell is it?"

"It's Sloan, Steve Sloan"

No response.

"Dougie?"

"Do I know ya or somefin'?"

Steve had figured that his memory may not be great. Now he had to scream through the door some sort of explanation.

"Yeah Dougie, we used to know each other. Steve Sloan," he paused "we served together."

The door clicked open. "Sloan! Come on in!"

Steve was shocked. The quick recognition, the response which seemed so cheerful, the surroundings which were anything but. Dougie sat crumpled up in his wheelchair. The room around him was messy, dirty. The décor was from the 70's and the whole place stank of alcohol and stale smoke.

"Man!" exclaimed Dougie "Long time Sloan, y' lookin' good. How are y' ma friend?"

"I'm good, good. And you?" it felt like such an inappropriate question.

"I'm Ok" he laughed as he span around in his chair, motioning for Steve to take a seat on the couch. "It's been a long time huh? Course I remember you man, just had a block there for a minute y' know?"

Steve nodded. He felt so uncomfortable sitting there, trying so hard not to look at Dougies legs, as he sat in the chair. His right leg seemed limp and wasted, the left rounder and rigid. A prosthetic. All of a sudden he could see no point in being here, but Dougie began talking "Hell we had some good times didn't we? Man they were some good days. Bad ones too though" he laughed patting his legs. Steve attempted a faint smile. "So what brings you here? Some sort of re-union thing goin' on or what?"

Steve shook his head. "That's a shame", Dougie continued "we should do one of those, I mean you spend a year of your life with a bunch of guys, become like brothers, then, well look how long it's taken us to finally meet up. Good to see you again Sloan".

Steve was confused. They'd only ever known each other a few days, maybe Dougie didn't really remember him, was just being polite, presuming he was a face from his regular scouting group. It seemed so strange, the way he talked, kind of hyped up. Steve figured he could be drunk, or maybe this was just the effect the war had taken on him. He seemed so small as well, sitting in that chair, face lost in a big bushy beard.

"So how did y' find me Sloan? Coincidence or ya been lookin' for me?"

"Coincidence really" he began "My father and a colleague treated you a while back at Community General Hospital. Your name rang a bell so I did some research"

"What kind a research?" he snapped.

"Just getting your address and stuff" he answered, he didn't want him to think Mark or Jesse had broken any code of ethics or laws to help him. He decided not to mention his own visit to the hospital room.

"So your ol' man, what's he do? Doctor or somefin'?"

Steve nodded. He was looking for a way out now. This had been a really bad idea. Dougie was not the young man he remembered, and he doubted now whether Dougie really remembered him or not. There was nothing to gain here.

"The last time I saw you was in the camp, warm wet Tuesday night, remember we'd all been listening to the baseball scores comin' in". Dougies comment caught him off guard, it seemed kind of romanticised, not to mention wholly inaccurate.

Steve really didn't know if he should correct him or not. With some trepidation he said "we were together Dougie, the day you….." he motioned towards him.

"Man, of course y' were! How could I forget that, I never got to say thanks for what y' did that day. Pretty scary huh? I felt real bad leaving y' behind to fight without me, I would have stayed if I could have. I'm pleased y' got off OK, when did y' get home, when we pulled out?"

Steve shook his head "I was in the hospital with you Dougie, I think you may have me confused with someone else. Steve Sloan, we only met a few days before we were injured."

"I got y' now!" he screamed excitedly "Sloan, yeah I was thinkin' of, er, Stone or somethin', yeah I remember you now. How are y'?" He asked, checking him over for any apparent signs of disability.

"I'm OK" he replied, but he wasn't. This felt so wrong, his stomach knotted itself tighter. _Everything_ felt wrong here and he was sure he'd made a big mistake. "I have to be going" he lied "good to see you again"

"Sure, here give me y' address" he demanded pushing a scrap of paper and pen into Steve's hand.

"Hey Sloan" Dougie roared as he was leaving "What d'ya do now" he asked "you still in the army man?"

Steve smiled "No, I'm with the police now".

Dougie tried to hide his shock, Steve by now had given up trying to read between the lines. "Take care Dougie".

"See y' ma friend" he hollered as Steve made his way out of the apartment and into his car.

TUESDAY,20:00

"I'm sorry it didn't go to plan" Mark's voice was truly sympathetic.

"Shouldn't have expected so much. He's been through a hell of a lot, lot of water under the bridge. And a lot of sorrows drowned too by all accounts" Steve shrugged. "He was just so weird, and his reaction when I told him I was a cop!"

"Son, I think you are maybe reading too much into this. So it turns out your memory is a little hazy, but not as hazy as some people's." 

Steve shook his head "it still doesn't feel right, now more than ever. Maybe you're right, I'm clutching at straws. And it's not like I can go back over there and start interrogating him. I'm just gonna head downstairs, I'm pretty whacked".

"OK, but you'll come back up if there's anything you want to discuss?"

"Sure dad, I'll maybe see you later", and with that Steve went down to his apartment to figure out his next step.

TUESDAY,23:12

"Steve" Mark whispered, leaning over his bed.

"Oh god, not again" he thought as he groggily came around. Looking at his clock he realised he'd been asleep less than half an hour.

"Steve" his father whispered again "I think you should come upstairs, you've got a visitor." Steve looked puzzled "It's Dougie" Mark continued.

WEDNESDAY,00:53

Steve had figured out now that Dougie wasn't drunk or stoned. He just seemed damn intent on harping back to a time Steve was trying his best to forget. Given the situation, there was little he could do; he'd stirred up this hornets nest, couldn't throw him out on the street. But the things Dougie talked about just didn't seem to fit with his own memories. Certain details, his injuries for example, and his childhood, they seemed genuine enough, but they were clouded in some far-fetched tales of heroism and happy days.

"Real nice place your dad's got here" he observed "my folks died in a fire when I was a kid y' know." He didn't wait for Steve to respond "I never had anybody 'til I signed up with the army, spent my life in kids homes, foster parents and crap like that" he didn't sound bitter. "Then I joined the army, became something. I became a man, respected y' know, become a goddamn hero. That's what I am y' know, I'm a hero, we all are Sloan". Steve was aware now of a viscous undertone in Dougies voice. "I gladly traded what I had then for what I've got now".

Steve was stunned, had he really just said that? As strange as Dougies attitude seemed, he couldn't mean that. Sure he'd heard of alcoholics and the like, having near death experiences which gave them the incentive to clean themselves up. But what was Dougies gain? He'd gone from being a strong, gentle and genuine human being to this.

"Do you really mean that?" he eventually asked.

"Hell yeah" he replied, astonished.

"But it must be difficult, must be things you wish you could change, things you used to do?"

"Nothing man, well 'cept maybe baseball, used to love to be out there, roundin' the bases, crowd roarin', slidin' in home…."

He continued to talk baseball but Steve was thinking back in his own mind now. Talking to Dougie, the first day they'd met. Family, they'd covered that, Dougies parents dying, Mark being a doctor, having Carol as a little sister. Dougie had remarked he'd liked to have had a sister, he'd been surrounded by other boys in the home, and only one of his foster families had children of their own. Three boys, "two on two, shooting hoops in the back yard". Most importantly in Steve's mind though was the talk of baseball, the guys were having a game that night, asked them to join in. Dougie admitted it was a game he'd never got into, didn't mind shooting hoops, but football was his love. Steve remembered it as clear as day, they'd even played the same position in high school. Dougie was a football player, but this was the second time he'd mentioned baseball. "I'm not crazy" Steve thought looking again at Dougie as he sat in the wheelchair, still talking incessantly.

There was eventually a break in the conversation and before Steve knew what he was doing he opened his mouth and began talking "so Dougie, I never asked, how's your little sister". Dougie sat silent, yet half grinning. Steve swallowed hard, what the hell did he think he was doing here? Ah well, in for a penny…."You're foster sister, Carol I mean" really pushing his luck now. Dougies expression changed and Steve recognised the tone of voice now "Carol, oh man she's OK, OK" he started enthusiastically.

Lying. Not being polite, not drunk, not confused, lying. Steve could barely hide his fury. He didn't know what the hell was going on here but he wasn't going to let up just yet. Let's see how far he could push this.

"Did she ever become a teacher, that's what she wanted right?", not too much, don't give it away, just see where he takes it.

"Yeah, yeah, still down in Texas, teaches fourth grade, loves it". He paused but Steve remained silent. As predicted the quiet didn't last long "She's married, got two kids of her own, great kids. Think their uncle Dougies a real hero too" he boasted. "But I don't see that much of them, distance and all".

Steve nodded. He'd stay here all night playing this game if he had to. He had to figure out who this guy was, and why the hell he was passing himself off as Dougie. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 ****

Chapter 7

THURSDAY,17:00

Marks shift was almost over, he couldn't wait to get home and talk to Steve. He couldn't remember what time he'd fallen asleep last night but he could still hear voices downstairs. Steve was up and out early in the morning and by now of course he'd have had another session with Dr Keller.

As Mark passed the admin desk Steve appeared from the elevator.

"Hey dad, Jesse and Amanda around?"

"Er, I think so, why, I mean is everything alright?"

"Fine dad, I've just got something to tell you, all of you"

THURSDAY,17:26

Steve had eventually rounded the three doctors up in the lounge, he paced the floor waiting to start and they sat together like three wise monkeys on the couch looking apprehensive.

"I'm not crazy!" Steve beamed "and with or without your help, I'm going to prove it. Obviously _with_ your help is going to be the easier of the two options but there you have it."

He then went on to explain the numerous holes he'd picked in 'Dougies' story, traps he's fallen into, inaccuracies which led Steve to believe that he'd never even served in the army. He added that in his opinion, Dougie and this guy must have met at some point and formed quite a close relationship. There were enough facts he had right to assure him of that. He added that he'd spent the whole day, including missing his session with Dr Keller, doing more research but wasn't progressing with much speed.

"So" he finished "the big question, show of hands people, who believes there is something in this?"

Jesse and Amanda shot uneasy looks at each other, Mark sat in the middle looking frustrated. Eventually Jesse nodded slowly, glanced at Amanda once more for guidance then tentatively waved his hand at Steve "I think if it's like you say then, there may be something to look at".

"Amanda?" Steve asked

She squirmed in her seat a little, then from embarrassment of friendship, he wasn't sure which replied "Yeah" in her best convincing voice "Yeah, I mean it sounds like there are some possibilities".

Ambiguous he thought, but never mind, two down, one to go.

"Dad?" he waited but there was no reply. Mark looked sternly at him "OK" Steve continued "Hands up if you think I am crazy, making this whole thing up". Eyebrows raised at Mark now, but there was still no reply.

"OK, I guess that's two for and one….what are you dad, undecided or just abstaining?".

Mark glared at his son now. "Are you sure?" he asked "I mean are you _certain_ Steve? Because you aren't only jeopardising your own well being here, there is another man involved in this who didn't ask to be. I need to know that we'd be right to pursue this. I won't hound down an innocent man who is quite possibly already emotionally scarred enough to leave him in this state of confusion, delusion, what ever it may be."

"You said it dad, scarred, the first thing that put me onto him. It's the wrong leg dad, and that's because it's the wrong person. This person is living the life of JJ Douglas. But I swear dad, I promise you, he is not who he claims to be."

"In that case you have my full support" Mark answered trepidation still tingeing his voice.

Jesse grinned, he loved a mystery, playing detective with Mark and Steve. Amanda felt the knots in her stomach, she had no idea how Steve was going to deal with this. She was glad he was seeing Dr Keller now, it took so much strain from their friendship. Mark sat trying to convince himself that Steve was right about this. He had to be, the consequences otherwise were too terrible to contemplate.

TUESDAY,17:45

The nightly round-kitchen-table meeting convened with Steve taking the floor. "Well, I pretty much exhausted the last speculative avenues today trying to work out if Dougie is still out there somewhere whilst this guy rips off his identity. No luck, not surprisingly. As with all the other channels I went through, the records show Dougie moving to California two years ago and have him living on the West Side of town."

Before anybody suggested the inevitable and obvious fact that maybe, given the evidence, the guy across town was Dougie, he continued, "But, as we know he isn't Dougie, it raises more than a few alarm bells. I mean he's not just using his name, he's using his life. Add to that his social security, military and disability benefits" he paused "It seems to me, that if Dougie were" he stopped again, didn't want to phrase it like that. "If you were missing out on all those cheques don't you think you'd notice? If you had a disability, needed medical attention maybe, don't you think there'd be a record of you?"

"It's a big jump Steve" his father interrupted "I mean I believed that it was possible that this man was an impostor, posing as Dougie, as you'd said, most probably an acquaintance given the accurate details he has about Dougies life. But what you are saying now? Fraud, and what else Steve?"

Mark knew fine well what Steve was thinking, but he hoped that in saying it out loud he'd realised how far fetched it was.

"I believe" he drew a sharp breath "I believe that in order to pull this off, to get away with it for so long, then this con-man must have met no resistance. There can't have been too many obstacles in his path, which leads me to believe that Dougie may be…" he couldn't finish.

"That's plausible" Amanda chipped in, to his obvious relief and shock. "It's not so uncommon, people assuming the identity of somebody who's, passed on" she said tactfully. "So it'd a damn hard thing to get going at first, but people get away with it for whole lifetimes. It wouldn't necessarily mean that our guy on the West Side had anything to do with Dougie passing away".

Mark didn't like the scolding look she'd shot him across the table. She was right, in theory, but reality was something different all together. "So where do we go now" he asked. The others looked a little shocked, Mark was so usually the leader of this group of merry men.

"Well", Steve began "we know they had to be in contact for a reasonable period of time, so what's the blinding fact which links them?" It was a rhetorical question, but Jesse didn't quite realise that.

"They're both from Texas!" he yelled, snapping his fingers.

Steve rolled his eyes "Is he really smart enough to be a doctor?" he asked Amanda, she grinned. "Well there is that Jesse" he mocked "though people have been know to fake accents. On the other hand amputating a limb to get into the role seems a little too enthusiastic".

Jesse looked embarrassed, "So our guy was injured, and was in hospital with Dougie right?"

"Wrong, well not totally right anyway" Steve replied, and Jesse slumped back in his chair. "Dougie was in a military facility when he came home. This joker seems so caught up in the idea of being a war hero, I can't see that he ever served in the armed forces. If he had done, then what would be his motive in taking over Dougies ID? My guess is that he a civilian. But Dougie _was _an out patient for about 8 months afterwards and would have mixed with civilians then".

"He could have been military" Mark said "but Dougie had no family, no past in a sense. He may have wanted a clean break."

"Possibly, but why not take the name and leave the personal details, wouldn't that be easier?"

"Maybe he did, only brought out the facts of Dougies life because that's who you thought he was. Covering his tracks, maybe he hadn't been quizzed on it in a long time, maybe ever, that's why he was rusty and you caught him out".

"Plausible" Steve nodded "I won't discount it but I have a strong feeling that he is a civilian, just some of the terms he uses, and the big hero thing, they don't sit right".

"OK, you'd know more about that than us" Mark conceded.

Steve looked confused. "What is it?" Amanda asked.

"Which do you think he is, stupid, arrogant or mentally ill?" Nobody answered. "You are living a lie, then a stranger turns up, starts quizzing you. What do you do?"

"Try and get rid of them" Jesse answered.

Steve nodded, "exactly, this guy had plenty of excuses, could have told me he didn't remember me"

"Would have aroused suspicions if you were truly an old dear friend" Amanda observed.

Steve agreed "OK, how about telling me he didn't want to talk? Who'd blame him, that would have worked right?" There was no reply. "Or even if he got cornered, why not let me do the talking? He could have just taken my lead"

"Like he did when he came here?" Mark added.

Steve nodded. "Yeah, but even then, he elaborated so much, left himself wide open to making a mistake. That's what makes me wonder about what's going on in his brain. I mean he came here looking for me second time, wanting to chat. He's either arrogant enough to think he can get away with it, or he's just not that bright."

"Or mentally ill?" Jesse asked

"You were his doctor, you tell us".

"Not mentally ill, drunk as hell when he came in, but nothing in his record, nothing that I spotted".

"OK, that narrows it down at least" Steve tried to sound optimistic. He caught Marks frown across the table "I know" he conceded "A lot of speculation, not much evidence. Why do you think I got you guys on board?"

THURSDAY,15:00

"What is it dad?" Steve demanded breathlessly as he strode into Amanda's pathology lab, completely ignoring his friend as she sat at her desk. "You got something? Some news?"

"How was your meeting with Dr Keller?" Mark asked

"You called me over to ask me that?"

"No, not specifically but I figured I'd ask anyway".

Steve tutted. "It was fine, now what have you got?"

"Not me, Amanda", he nodded towards her, and Steve turned to give her his full attention.

"So?" his manner was rather abrupt but Amanda didn't comment.

"So" she began politely. "I had a bit of time this morning to go over the details Jesse dragged up yesterday. Took all the patients whose re-hab at the University Hospital could have coincided with Dougies 8 months as an out patient and basically started a mass cull".

"Using what criteria?" Steve asked

"I started with the most obvious"

"Not accent" he quipped

"No, amputees only, one right leg and two arms needed to make it past the first cut. No degenerative diseases as we know first hand that the condition is authentic and trauma related. Then I went on race, but most of the names related to Caucasian males so it didn't narrow it down much. So I tried age, I know it's a bit of a judgement call, but this guy is passing himself off as Dougie he has to be in the same approximate age range. I went with five years either way." 

"Good" Steve nodded "what did you come up with".

She grimaced "how does 43 possibles sound?"

"43 amputees!" Steve sank down into the chair opposite the desk and Mark placed his hand on his shoulder.

"The University had a huge catchment area, were offering some excellent new forms of therapy at the time". There was a pause "Then" Amanda started again, almost mischievously "I got a bit more basic. I doubt this guy is using two identities at once, so he probably ditched the old one in favour of the new one".

"What did you do?"

"Made a general search, phone books of the Houston and Shepherd area".

"Lived in Shepherd, treated in Houston, makes sense".

"I managed to account for over half the names on the list. Got it down to 19 to be precise. So you figure a half a dozen may have moved out of the area, that's conservative enough, brings you down to 13, all of a sudden the list isn't looking so long".

"Yeah, except I have to find those half a dozen and eliminate them, then get rid of 12 others!" He tried not to sound ungrateful, he'd been rushed off his feet at work the last day and a half, if it wasn't for Jesse's ground work and Amandas analysis, he's be no further forward.

"I don't want to play devil's advocate" Mark began "but the first criteria, one leg and two arms, well maybe this guy had the amputation later on, after he met Dougie"

"Please dad, don't. This is already hard enough, it's too much of a coincidence. Let's take this as far as we can first, then I'll be ready to believe it's a huge quirk of fate". He thought for a while "19 you say, can I have a look". Steve glanced up and down the list of names Amanda had scrawled on a piece of paper. He didn't know what he was looking for, inspiration he supposed. "Hold on" he nodded his head knowingly "A certain criteria you overlooked". Amanda looked puzzled. "What put most of these guys in re-hab?" he asked

"The war" Mark answered solemnly from behind him.

"And if this guy was a veteran already, he had little to gain by assuming Doguies ID. Don't suppose any of these 19 were civilians? Maybe an Auto-wreck, medical reason like an infection or tumour. Anything basically that says they weren't injured in the line of duty".

"I don't have full medical histories Steve, just the basic reason for needing re-hab, but I do have occupation listed with the names, date of births and the such like." She quickly cross-matched the list, eyes darting between the sheet of names she'd shown Steve and the papers on her desk. He tried to count the amount of times her pen flicked across the page, eliminating the military personnel. "Well if you are right" she began "this just got very interesting".

Steve gazed intently as she turned the sheet to face him; only four names remained.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 ****

Chapter 8

FRIDAY,19:10

"Hey, sorry I'm late" Steve huffed as he hurried into the kitchen. Amanda, Jesse and his father had just started dinner, a healthy looking pasta dish. Steve served himself a huge portion and began shovelling the food into his mouth.

"Do either of you want to explain the concept of indigestion to him?" Mark asked Jesse and Amanda. Steve raised his eyebrows but didn't slow down. "Haven't you eaten today?" Mark asked, more to make him pause for breath than anything else.

Steve shook his head "Was busy with those names" he mumbled before the next fork full was popped in his mouth.

"And?" Jesse asked excitedly

Steve gestured with his hand, gulped the pasta down and began to talk "Yeah well.." he took another fork full "it turns out" 

"Steve!" his father scolded "manners". Amanda and Jesse sniggered, being told off at his age for talking with his mouth full! A stern glance from Mark silenced them again. "Why don't we finish our meal, slowly, we have all night to talk" he reasoned.

FRIDAY,19:35

"OK" Steve started, "our four suspects". He then listed them in a very official, almost regimental tone:

William James Potter, accident involving farm machinery aged 21, was in re-hab for a period which overlapped with Dougies by about two and a half months. The happy ending to his story is that he's alive and well, manages an auto repair shop in Kentucky, married with three kids.

"One down three to go" Jesse exclaimed, his enthusiasm having never faded for playing Detective with Steve.

"Well we can also cross Troy Jenkins from the list. Died of a cocaine overdose in 1984."

"You sure it was him who died?" Amanda interrupted.

"Well, the tattoos covering almost 60 per cent of his body were a bit of a give away. He had a criminal record stretching back to his teens so I'd say we are safe that the ID was good".

"And then there were two" Mark interjected.

"Take your pick time" Steve continued. "Alexander Concannon, fell from scaffolding aged 22, leg so badly broken they were forced to amputate, left paralysed from the waist down. Last record showed him in Oregan in 1989, nothing since."

"Dougie spent time in Oregan correct?" Mark asked, and Steve nodded

"But it's a big state, and it's not illegal to go live there. It does seem suspicious that the trail on him just seemed to end, then again I haven't had time to dig too deep just yet. Let's just say he's holing joint first place in my mind at the moment"

"Joint with?" Jesse asked impatiently.

"Brian Wallace, car smash aged just 19, longest overlap with Dougie, almost 6 months at the end of his therapy. Records of him in the Houston area for about 5 months afterwards and then…." his pause wasn't intended for dramatic effect, but that is what it gave

"What!" The three asked in unison.

"Brian Wallace is Missing Presumed Dead".

TUESDAY,07:47

"Hey Mark, Mark hold up" Jesse called as he bounded down the corridor after him. Mark rolled his eyes, chuckling a little.

"No Jesse" he began without hesitation "Steve didn't turn too much up yesterday, he was tied up on a homicide Downtown".

"Thought he'd have found something, he was so frustrated at how many of the departments he wanted to contact were closed weekends".

Mark sighed "Yes Jesse, Steve is frustrated. But as I hope you can appreciate whatever he turns up is going to have major implications." Amanda rounded the corner and joined the conversation. 

"Morning" she chirped, but Mark was more concerned about putting Jesse straight.

"I know this all seems very mysterious and exciting Jesse, but have you really considered how this will effect Steve". Jesse looked sheepish and half-shrugged. "What if Steve does uncover some awful truth about this man and Dougie, assuming they are two different people? How do you think he'll react to that? Or" he continued "he may be forced to accept that he made a mistake, and with the frame of mind he is in now I think that may actually hit him harder". 

"I think we all appreciate that Mark" Amanda added defensively "We all want what's best for Steve".

"I know you do, and I'm not trying to offend you Jesse, I'm just saying tread a little carefully. Steve needs friends, and he needs voices of reason, not somebody ready to jump on the band wagon with whatever theory he comes up with next".

"So you _don't_ believe him?" Jesse asked incredulously.

"I didn't say that" Mark replied "I believe that Steve believes it, I just don't want him to suffer, he's was making such progress with Dr Keller now he's skipping sessions to try and do research. Don't carried away, that's all I'm saying".

Jesse dejectedly made his excuses and left, Amanda and Mark continued down the corridor.

TUESDAY,11:07

Steve felt like a schoolchild cheating in a math test; the files of Brian Wallace, Alexander Concannon and Dougie were hidden inside his homicide case folder. He looked around for prying eyes then started leafing through the sparse information he had on the trio. He'd blatantly abused his position in the police force to gain what little he had. He picked up the phone and started calling the possible leads and sources he'd scribbled down over the weekend. It was that old moral issue he thought, he'd technically already broken the law so would making a few more calls make a difference now? Kind of like being late, whether it's by a minute or an hour, you're still late. 

When a local sheriff who'd dealt with Brian Wallace's disappearance agreed to talk to Steve, he knew he'd made the right decision.

TUESDAY,21:39 

Steve paced anxiously around the beach house, he'd been home twenty minutes now and was bursting to tell his father of his recent discoveries. "C'mon, where are you" he asked out loud. He'd expected Mark and Jesse to be here, but he couldn't even contact either of them at the hospital or on their mobiles. Amanda had been home, but when he'd called and mentioned he'd made significant progress she said she'd be straight over. Steve tried to contain himself, he couldn't figure what this feeling was; fear? Excitement? Relief? He wasn't sure, maybe it was just pure adrenaline pumping through his veins. A car pulled up outside and he raced to open the front door.

Amanda was lifting CJ, still fast asleep, from his car seat.

"You shouldn't have brought him out!" Steve scolded scooping the floppy limbed boy from her arms. He laid him gently on the sofa and stroked his cheek smiling as Amanda placed a blanket over his tiny frame and settled the cushions around him. 

She then turned her attention to Steve "Are you OK?" she asked

"I'm fine, sorry if I scared you on the phone, I just really wanted to get in touch with dad."

Just then the door clicked behind them and in strode Mark and Jesse.

"At last" Steve began "I think you'll wanna take a seat, I've got a lot to tell you".

TUESDAY,21:39

"So" he began, "I didn't get much further with Alexander Concannon, the scaffolding contractor last seen in '89, but our Mr Brian Wallace on the other hand proved to be an open book, almost literally".

"Ah c'mon Steve, just tell us what's going on" Jesse demanded impatiently.

"Brian Wallace" he began, leafing through some papers "was born Brian Dempsy, adopted at the age of seven after his father walked out and his mother had a nervous breakdown. Took his adoptive family's name, became Brian Lawson and led a rather unremarkable life in Houston until he was seventeen".

"Then?" Jesse interrupted again

"Then, he left home, got a job working as a labourer and for some reason changed his name again, this time to Brian Wallace. Was in a serious motor accident aged 19, nobody else involved, he was intoxicated at the time. Spent three months in intensive care, another three and a half months in hospital and then seven months in physical therapy at the same time as Dougie".

"But you have more than that I presume?" Mark asked with some trepidation.

"Oh yeah" he nodded gleefully, "it's the 'what happened next' which will blow your mind".

Amanda and Mark shuffled uncomfortably in their seats, Jesse beamed and clasped his hands. Steve continued.

"There are records of Wallace in Houston for another five months after he finished re-hab, few home calls by a social worker and hospital check up's. The apartment he lived in during that time was specially designed for wheelchair users, two bedrooms. Wanna guess who his room mate was?" Steve couldn't hide the nervous energy inside him now.

Jesses eyes widened and he grinned, Amanda slumped back in her chair, stunned. 

Mark leaned over the table looked straight at his son and squeezed his wrist. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you" he sighed.

Steve laughed "Oh god dad, you haven't heard half of it!", Mark looked shocked. "y'see after about five months Wallace and Dougie hit the road together, drove across Texas, into New Mexico, Arizona and up into Utah. Most of that I gathered from Wallaces record, police and medical. Seems he had a habit of getting drunk and getting into trouble. But his next run in with the police was completely different. In 1974 Jonathon Jacob Douglas showed up at a police station near Garrison Falls on the Snake River in Idaho. He wanted to report the disappearance of his travelling partner and good friend".

"Brian Wallace" Amanda finished on his behalf.

"Garrison Falls is a pretty inhospitable place for a guy in a wheelchair so the search was rather localised. Wallaces chair and a couple of personal effects were found the next day on a bridge, smatterings of blood all around, body was never recovered. Missing Presumed Dead, probably somewhere in the Snake River."

"Wasn't the blood cross matched?" Jesse asked

"Wasn't exactly common practice in '74 Jess, and there was nothing to suggest foul play. Mr Douglas admitted his friend Wallace had contemplated suicide, that's why they were on the road trip, travelling about, hoping they'd find somewhere they'd feel at home. The whole thing got a big write up in the local paper, except Mr Douglas refused to be photographed, said he was uncomfortable with his appearance. Then Douglas, or by this time Wallace living under Dougies name, moved on through Idaho, eventually settled in Ingham Bay, Oregan. Attended Community College there for a spell and worked as a shop assistant for several years. He then worked in a processing factory and 'quit' due to health problems, the undertones suggest he was sacked for showing up drunk when he bothered to show up at all. Never married from what I can tell, moved down the coast for a few months eventually settling here a couple of years back, lives on his social security and military benefits".

There was silence for a while as the friends sat in quiet contemplation of the facts. "What about the leg?" Mark eventually asked.

Steve shrugged "I dunno dad, you tell me. If you were in general practice and a guy shows up, got all the ID and stories to suggest he's a veteran, but there is one glaring mistake in his medical file; all the injuries, scars, complaints and so forth fit but it's the wrong stated as being as amputated, what would you do?"

Mark really couldn't think how to answer such a bizarre question. He cleared his throat but didn't speak. "Don't you think you could be persuaded" Steve continued "to believe that in the chaos of a field hospital a ludicrous error may have occurred? And if Wallace never needed any treatment more serious than stitching a few head wounds after drunken brawls or falls, who'd ever discover the truth?"

Steve was right, it all fitted so perfectly, too perfectly Mark thought but he knew now was not the time to air his suspicion.

"So what's the next step" he asked instead "I don't suppose this information was obtained through official channels? Do you have any say over a missing persons case this old, especially one from out of state?"

Steve knew he had no grounds to start and official investigation of the man claiming to be Dougie. He could pass the information over to the authorities in Garrison Falls but whether they could actually prove anything was another matter altogether.

"I'm still interested in Alexander Concannon" Jesse butted in before Steve could reply. "I mean sure this Wallace guy looks like a hot favourite but think about it, he moves up to Oregan, meets Concannon who recognises him from re-hab in Houston. Wallace can't have his cover blown so bumps off Concannon, hence no record since '89."

"Been there Jesse" Steve began dropping his head into his hands "and a million other maybe's too. For the moment I am willing to accept Concannon as a coincidence, once I figure Dougie out I'll check on Concannon. Now dad, back to your question, I've go no official grounds or jurisdiction. Or evidence come to mention it so I'm afraid I'm gonna have to…" he looked sheepishly at his father.

"No Steve" Mark cut him off "I don't think seeing this guy is a good idea. Even if he confessed the whole thing to you, told it just like you did, you'd still have no proof. Probably loose your job, is it really worth it".

"Sure it is" Jesse replied on Steve's behalf "we could tape it all, play the confession back and get him arrested".

"Hold on you guys" Steve reasoned "I hear what you are saying dad, I'm unlikely to get a conviction from this. Even if he confessed Jess, a tape recording would prove entrapment and nothing more. Another factor, no body, no murder. Wallace is missing presumed dead, but there were no indications of foul play, logged as a probable suicide".

"So why go and see him?" Mark asked again.

Steve looked at Amanda for support, she smiled at him softly and nodded. Fixing his eyes on the table he replied "Because I need to dad, because I need to know. I maybe won't get a conviction, but I may get peace of mind. And isn't that what it's all about, figuring stuff out and moving on?"

Mark smiled at Steve, but he was still focussing on the table. "OK, he said, as long as we talk about it properly before you rush off and meet with Wallace. I want you to be careful Steve"

"I doubt he's dangerous"

"That's not what I mean" Mark added "I want to be sure you are ready to hear the truth. It's sometimes true that ignorance is bliss, even if you've longed to get to the bottom of some mystery for years, it can still be a shock to hear exactly what you were expecting".

Steve knew what he was referring too. The least he could do was respect his wishes now and wait a few days before confronting Wallace.


	9. Chapter 9 - Postscript

Chapter 9 ****

Chapter 9

FRIDAY,21:10

The waitress brought Steve another soda as he sat alone in the seedy bar. She was in her late 30's, blonde but the roots showed through. "Y'OK honey" she asked "don't tell me ya been stood up". Steve smiled politely. 

"nah, just waiting for an old friend" he replied. Just then Wallace appeared in the doorway, Steve raised a hand to attract his attention and he made his way over to the table.

"Oh, you're a friend of Dougies?" the waitress observed "don't feel like paying his tab do ya? Boss is going mad for him to pay up, really don't want to se him get barred. Hey Dougie, usual?" she greeted him. He nodded and she made her way back to the bar.

FRIDAY,21:45

It had been Steve's intention to cut to the chase with Wallace, let him know that he was onto him and see if he could push him into confessing. But he still hadn't got a word in edgeways as Wallace described in glorious Technicolor to the waitress how he and Steve knew each other. Losing patients now Steve decided not to listen to anymore lies. "You can cut the act Wallace" he began abruptly "I don't want to listen to anymore of this crap".

"What the hell y'talkin' about Sloan?" he tried to sound shocked but the look in his eyes said that he knew he'd been caught. The waitress, obviously embarrassed had headed back behind the bar. 

"I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you give me anymore crap about 'the good old days', I did my homework, I know you never served in the armed forces. Put that with the hundred-and-one slip ups and mistakes you made at my fathers house the other night and I don't see how you can talk yourself out of this one". There was silence for a while, then as predicted Wallace started to kick up a fuss. 

Swiping the empty beer bottles from the table he spun around and headed towards the door "you're a goddamn disgrace, speaking to a hero like that. D'ya know what he just said Mandy?" he called to the barmaid "said I never served in the services, feel sorry for y' Sloan, the war may have screwed up ma body but it totally warped your mind" he spat.

"Funny" Steve continued "thought it was driving yourself drunk into a tree that screwed you up".

There was silence for a moment "this is finished Sloan" he yelled from the door, Steve hurried up behind him.

"You're right Wallace, it's over, the military are onto you, they treat frauds very seriously you know. But not as seriously as murder, some people in Garrison Falls are rather interested in talking to you."

Wallace stopped dead in his tracks, there wasn't a sound from him now, which further amplified the beating of Steve's heart in his head. "Admit, for got sake admit it" he said to himself. There was no plan B, if Wallace didn't crack there'd be little Steve could do about it.

After what seemed like an eternity Wallace spoke "I'm not a murderer" was all he said.

FRIDAY,23:51

Steve wearily wandered up the drive and opened the door to the beach house. He was surprised to see his father and two friends waiting for him. CJ was tucked up on the sofa and so the four made their way quietly to the kitchen.

Mark had a bad feeling about the dejected look that Steve wore. "Well?" he asked "did you see him?"

Steve nodded as he slumped onto one of the chairs. "Yeah" he started in an unusually quiet voice. "It pretty much went as I'd hoped, he admitted it, that he's not Dougie, that he is Brian Wallace."

"And did he admit murdering Dougie?" Jesse asked rather insensitively.

Steve shook his head "No, but I've managed to persuade him to turn himself over for fraud, he's going to the station tomorrow."

"And then you'll have grounds to arrest him for murder!" Jesse added excitedly.

"No Jess, there was no murder. He says it was suicide, just took the opportunity to make a fresh start." Steve shrugged.

"And you believe him?" Mark asked. 

"Yeah I do, when he got talking straight tonight I'm pretty sure he gave me the real deal. But we'll see tomorrow. I don't mean to be ungrateful you guys, I appreciate you waiting up for me but I just want to get off to bed, see you in the morning dad". With that Steve made his way downstairs and Amanda and Jesse made their way home.

SATURDAY,13:10

Mark walked down to the waters edge as Steve stood gazing over the ocean. "Are you ready to go?" he asked gently, Steve nodded.

"Better go get him before he changes his mind and skips town". They made their way together up to the beach house.

"You didn't sleep so good" Mark observed.

"No, not too good. You were right – as usual" he said "I wanted Wallace to tell me he'd stolen Dougies identity, wanted to be proved right about this. And I guess I've known since I talked to the sheriff in Garrison Falls, y'know, that Dougie's.." he couldn't say it. "But listening to Wallace describing the way Dougie just, I dunno, fell into a depression I guess. Listening to how they'd discussed suicide, knowing that Dougie took his own life, I was just wondering what he would have been like if he'd made a different decision that day."

Mark could barely choke back the tears, the comparison with Steve's confession not so long ago about contemplating suicide were too much. He turned away.

"Dad, hey it's OK" Steve reassured him. "You don't have to come if you don't want to" but Mark shook his head.

"I'm OK, as long as you want me there".

Together they entered the beach house.

SATURDAY,14:45

"Well Sloan" the captain remarked "this is a new one, bringing in confessions off the street. You turning into some sort of soul saver?"

Steve smiled, everybody he'd spoken to at the station had been supportive and promised to keep the details of his involvement in the case to a minimum. At Steve's request, and with Wallaces consent, he, Mark, Amanda and Jesse were being allowed to watch the interview from the observation room.

As they entered the room they could hear the detective informing Wallace of his rights, he was here and making a statement of his own free will. A small inner voice told Steve that Wallace would clam up or deny everything. To everybody's relief Wallace began in the same rambling manner that he'd used with Steve.

"I met Dougie when we were treated together, physical therapy y'know. We were the same age almost and I liked him straight off. He was a pretty up-beat fella when I met him, and I liked that about him. We'd had similar childhoods too, neither of us raised by our parents. Dougie was in homes mostly, I was adopted, good enough couple, I ain't got no complaints about them. But then, I dunno what it was, I was getting all this stuff about taking control of my life, needing direction and making something of myself. So I did just what Dougie did, I signed up."

The detective sat opposite Wallace, looking relaxed and thus far not interrupting. Behind the one-way glass, Jesse was wide-eyed as Amanda and Mark concentrated more on reading Steve's emotions.

"So there I was" Wallace continued "New name, fresh start, off to serve my country and make something of myself. Hell I know most of the nation had lost faith in Vietnam by then but I was convinced it was the right thing to do. Then the days started rolling by, almost time for me to go off to training camp and to, to be honest I got a little, well I was having second thoughts. But the decision's made, I told myself, I just had to go through with it. I was just cruising around downtown one night, the night before I was due to leave. I had a bit of a skin-full and decided to drive up to Conroe, see a girl I knew there. That was it, drove smack bang into a tree, out of it for three months. When I woke up there was a whole new life waiting for me. No Vietnam and no goddamn leg" he chuckled.

"When I met Dougie, he wasn't bitter, and when I told him what happened to me he didn't laugh, he didn't think I was stupid. I did hack him off, always asking him about the war, but I reckon we were good for each other. That's why we got the house together, I really felt like I had prospects man, stupid as it sounds. But Dougie, ah, Dougie started to change. We'd go and get drunk, I do some pretty stupid stuff when I get alcohol in me but it's just what I do. I'd be wrecking the joint and Dougies in the corner cryin' in his beer. I thought it'd pass but he just got worse. So one day we were talking, about my father in fact. I said he was somewhere in Oregan so Dougie suggested we go and find him. I didn't want to really, he'd walked out when I was a kid but I figured a road trip would be fun. And it was, at first at least." 

He paused. "Dougie was kinda up and down, sometimes we'd be cruisin' and singin', Dougie'd be talking' about somethin' or other, often about 'Nam, and usually not in a bad way. I loved his attitude, and I loved that it had _meaning_. When he'd be down you could think 'god it's unfair, innocent kid wants to do right and ends up losing his leg', he was a hero. Then I'd look at myself and wonder why he'd hang out with such a loser". 

SATURDAY,16:11

"I'd like to go over the specifics of the day Mr Douglas disappeared" the detective asked "and can I remind you sir, nothing has changed, you are still free to leave".

Wallace nodded.

"OK, Mr Douglas' chair was found on a bridge, surrounded by blood. Can you account for any of that"

"Dougie had a gun" he spluttered almost without hesitation "when he'd talked about takin' his life before he'd said he'd shoot himself. I didn't expect it that day though, he seemed so up, we'd wheeled ourselves onto the bridge, view was fantastic and we were just y'know, enjoyin' the view, sayin' how life wasn't so bad. I really believed it that day too."

"What happened next?"

"Dougie tipped himself out of his chair, pulled himself under the fence and sat looking over the edge. He had his rucksack on the back of his chair, asked me to pass it down to him. I thought he was getting' a drink or a goddamn camera but he pulled out this gun! He just said 'sorry Brian, you go and find your dad I'm staying here'. I laughed at first, then I realised he was serious. I asked him what he thought he was doing, told him he was a hero, didn't need to take a cowards way out now. He just said it had gotten too much, said he needed to stop his brain. He waited a while, told me I shouldn't be there to watch but I figured he might bottle if I stayed so I just sat behind him."

There was silence again.

"Go on" the detective prompted.

"He did it, shot himself in the head. He was just slumped on the ledge, I didn't know what to do. He was dead already, I pulled his rucksack out the way and tried to reach down, I was gonna pull him back onto the bridge but when I unhooked his arm from the fence he...he fell off the ledge. I saw him splash down below and I thought ''h god, what if somebody saw me, thinks I pushed him?' So I picked up the bag 'cos it had his ID and stuff in and headed back to the car. I was just gonna head on to Oregan but I couldn't just leave him down there. I drove into the town, said my friend had gone off for the day and hadn't come back. When they asked my name it just, just clicked I suppose. Dougie had no ID, I had it all. He was dead already, he didn't need it, and once I'd told the police it was Brian Wallace who'd topped himself what could I do? I was kind of relieved they never found his body, but I feel bad he never had a proper burial."

Steve closed his eyes and Amanda touched his arm. The truth was he wasn't as upset as he'd imagined. He was genuinely shocked at how innocent Wallace sounded sitting there, how little hatred he felt towards him and his lies. Wallace had been young and hero-worshipped Dougie, it wasn't justification but it was strangely easy enough for him to comprehend.

The detective went on to establish that Wallace's family was still listed as next of kin and that he'd never been in touch with them since. He'd made his way into Oregan living undetected under Dougies name, claiming benefits and as time went on, embellishing the details of his life, especially his part in the war. Steve had been the first person in all those years to recognise him. He couldn't explain why he'd embellished so much with Steve. Partly he'd presumed that if they'd only known each other for a short while there would have been aspects of Dougies life he'd never have heard about. As for the rest, he conceded that in his own mind he'd replayed Dougies stories so many times in his head that the facts had become distorted. With nobody to correct them he'd fooled himself into believing his own version of events.

Finally, when the subject of his prosthetic leg was brought up he smirked and managed a faint chuckle "I got one gullible doc" was all he said.

Wallace was informed about the likely proceedings concerning charges of fraud. The detective told him he'd be interviewed further regarding the circumstances of Dougies death, a thought which clearly shook him. The four observers left the station emotionally drained, but relived that the nightmare was at last over.

****

Postcsript

SATURDAY,13:48

It had been two weeks since Wallace confessed to falsely assuming Dougie's ID and numerous charges of fraud. All parties concerned however accepted that he played no tangible part in Dougies death. There were related charges, concealing evidence, misleading police in their investigations and so on. And just to keep Jesse happy, Steve had eventually traced Alexander Concannon down in his new home in the south of France.

Plates and take-away cartons lay strewn across the table as the four friends relaxed on the deck in the afternoon sun. As they laughed and talked together, each of them considered quietly to themselves how lucky they were to be surrounded by people like this. The merry chatter of the adults outside was matched by the merry, incoherent, chatter of CJ inside who'd just woken up from his lunchtime nap. 

Amanda made a start to get up from her chair, but Jesse was on his feet and into the lounge before she could move. 

"Play time" Mark joked and Amanda rolled her eyes.

Jesse appeared in the doorway with CJ held high in his arms. Amanda tickled his dangling feet "where's your shoes baby?" she asked 

"No shoes" Jesse answered on CJ's behalf "we're off to play in the sand", and with that they made their way to the waters edge with Amanda in tow.

"I think I embarrassed her the other night" Mark started as he and Steve sat watching the others playing on the beach. "I mentioned how I thought you felt, about her and CJ". Steve wriggled in her chair "I know" Mark continued "That's how Amanda reacted. I'm just really pleased you have somebody to turn to, it's important to have friends around, people to talk to."

"I know I'm a bit of a loner sometimes, guess I was as a kid too. I'm content in my own company dad, not that I don't want people in my life. And I know I'm guilty of thinking that I don't _need_ anybody else, but I realised now that I do, we all do". Steve knew what he was saying made sense, but more than anything he wanted to put Marks mind at rest.

"I know the two of you are friends, nothing more, but I'm pleased you've got her. I get the feeling that there are things you still can't tell me, things you want to shield me from or just can't express, but Amanda makes a good sounding board, right?" 

"Jesse's a good listener too" Steve evaded answering the question. 

Mark screwed up his face "Jesse's still a little young, when I compare him to you at that age, everything you'd been through. I'm very fond of Jesse you know, but I kind of think of him as a little brother, the light relief if you get my drift. I know he'd always be there to back you up, he's a good friend and all but Amanda has a bit more of a mature ear to lend".

Steve sighed in defeat "Yes dad, Amanda is great and I lover her _and_ CJ, I hope to have her as a friend for a very long time". Mark took the hint and changed the topic of conversation.

"This may sound a little strange" he began "but I'm starting to think this whole black cloud may have had a silver lining after all"

"You mean like us talking properly?" Steve asked. 

"Yes," Mark beamed "You were maybe right, there are certain things that are hard to hear, or difficult to understand but at least now I hope you know you can come to me, anytime. I'm so glad you are still talking to Dr Keller, I know he doesn't push you too much, and I could still take lessons in that respect. But I'm pretty proud of myself, I've learned some days you want to talk and others you maybe just need time to reflect. I don't expect you to be unloading the woes of the world on a daily basis" he quipped. Steve smiled but Mark could tell the conversation was uncomfortable for him now. 

"Think we better rescue them?" Steve asked, as CJ ran back and forward between Amanda and Jesse. 

"Maybe we'd better" agreed Mark and the pair strolled slowly down the sand towards the clear blue ocean. 

Steve turned to see Jesse, Amanda and his father smiling at him as he scooped CJ up into his arms. For an awful moment the feeling that they pitied him entered his head, followed by the knot of guilt in his stomach over the pain and worry he'd caused them. But as CJ giggled freely and tugged at his shirt the feeling subsided. He had three very special people there to help him. And though deep inside he knew there were still things he could never burden any of them with, it was good enough just to know that they cared.


End file.
